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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264292">Say It Just One Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory'>poisonivory</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breaking Up &amp; Making Up, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Future Fic, Jon Kent Is Doing His Best, M/M, wedding fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years ago, Damian Wayne broke Jon's heart. Needing a change of scene, Jon moved to the future and joined the Legion of Super-Heroes. But when a family wedding—which may or may not be under threat from supervillains—calls him back to his home time, it's inevitable that he'll run into his ex again.</p><p>Luckily, he's over Damian.</p><p>Isn't he?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bart Allen/Kara Danvers, Bart Allen/Kara Zor-El, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>359</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. And She Said You Were in Town</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As usual, I'm disregarding the Bendis run except for the general idea of the Legion. Jon remains younger than Damian and aged to adolescence normally, under the tender loving care of his nurturing and responsible parents. *ahem* Not that I'm bitter.</p><p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizzmarvel/pseuds/mizzmarvel">mizzmarvel</a> for the beta! The title is from "Again" by Janet Jackson.</p><p>New chapters will go up on Mondays.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <i>Say it just one time</i>
    <br/>
    <i>Say you love me</i>
    <br/>
    <i>God knows I do love you</i>
    <br/>
    <i>Again</i>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div>Jon stepped out of the portal and into empty air. For a minute he just floated, looking at the world around him. The buildings below him were cement and steel rectangles, firmly rooted into the ground. The Earth bent away to a curved horizon and not a spidery network of pods and bridges. The sky was a soft and welcoming blue.<p>He was home.</p>
<p>He breathed in deep, filling his lungs with good old twenty-first century air. He knew that familiar scent was pollution, but it still made him smile, knowing the air was unfiltered and dome-free. He loved being on the Legion of Super-Heroes; he loved his friends on the team and his life in the future. But half alien or no, he’d always be an Old Earth boy at heart.</p>
<p>His parents were still in the apartment on Shuster Avenue. He checked for looky-loos before flying in the open window. “Mom? Dad? Are you home?”</p>
<p>“Jon!”</p>
<p>Mom beat Dad to the hug, and Jon wasn’t even sure Dad had let her win. Dad just settled for wrapping his arms around them both, and Jon closed his eyes and sank into his parents’ embrace. He’d visited a few times over the past five years, of course, and he’d even gotten permission to bring them both to Legion HQ once, but every time he saw them it always felt like too long since the last time.</p>
<p>Finally Mom pulled free of the hug and held him at arm’s length. “<i>Look</i> at you,” she said. She pushed his chin gently to get a better look at the scar angling down his right cheek. “Wait, what’s this? What happened?”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing, it’s healed,” Jon said. “There’s still some kryptonite in the future, it turns out. But I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“You’re still handsome,” she assured him. Her tone went teasing. “My little Superboy, all grown up.”</p>
<p>“I know I’m supposed to roll my eyes and go ‘Mooom’ at that, but I’ll let you have it,” Jon said. He had, of course, been eighteen when he’d gone to the future and so technically already “all grown up”—his parents wouldn’t have let him go if he hadn’t finished high school—but looking back, that Jon really did feel like a kid.</p>
<p>That Jon had made a lot of mistakes.</p>
<p>But remembering those mistakes wasn’t why he was here. Jon shook off the memories and took in the sight of his parents: Dad with a few more white hairs at his temples, Mom with deeper smile lines around her mouth, but the same beloved faces. “It’s so good to be back,” he said.</p>
<p>“And by <i>back</i>, do you mean just for the week, or are you finally coming home for good?” Mom asked, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Lo, he’s been here five minutes, let him breathe,” Dad said.</p>
<p>Mom rolled her eyes and said “Claaark” exactly the way Jon had said “Mooom” and they all laughed. “Sorry, Jon. I don’t mean to push. Even if it’s just for a short trip, I’m glad you could make it.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Jon said. “It’s my cousin’s wedding! Wild omnibeasts couldn’t keep me away.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>There was a brunch planned, officially for the families and unrelated wedding party members to congregate in a semi-casual setting before the chaos of the wedding itself descended on them, and unofficially to welcome Jon home. Jon changed out of his uniform and into twenty-first century civvies before they left. While he was lacing up his shoes, Mom came and knocked on his open doorframe.</p>
<p>“You ready for brunch?” she asked.</p>
<p>“I’m starving,” Jon said. “You know they don’t have bacon in the future?”</p>
<p>“I know,” she said. “You’ve told me every time you’ve come home. The freezer is packed with it, don’t worry.”</p>
<p>“You’re the best mother in history.”</p>
<p>“And don’t you forget it.” She drummed her nails on the doorframe. “You know...Tim will be at brunch.”</p>
<p>Jon paused in tying his shoelace, but only for a second. “I figured he would be one of the other groomsmen.”</p>
<p>“Are you going to be okay?”</p>
<p>“Of course. Tim’s cool. I’ve always liked him.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Mom said.</p>
<p>Jon finished tying his shoe and straightened up. “Really,” he said. “It’s not like...it’s been five years. I can handle drinking a mimosa with his brother.”</p>
<p>“Well, good.” She knocked on the doorframe again. “In that case, get a move on, Super Speed. We’re going to be late!”</p>
<p>There were enough of them in the wedding party that they’d reserved a private room in the back of the restaurant. Kara was the first person Jon saw, mostly because she practically tackled him.</p>
<p>“Thanks for coming, baby cousin,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here.”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t miss it,” he assured her. “Congratulations.”</p>
<p>He embraced Grandma and Grandpa, in from Smallville for the wedding, and shook hands with Jeremiah and Eliza Danvers. Kon pounded him on the back and lifted him off the floor in a bear hug.</p>
<p>“Little dude!” he crowed. “<i>Now</i> it’s a party.”</p>
<p>“Are you still calling me that? I’m taller than you.”</p>
<p>“Are not.”</p>
<p>Irey pounced on him next. “Jon! We’re going to be cousins!”</p>
<p>“Uh, I guess you could put it that way,” Jon said, doing the math in his head as he hugged her back. “My second cousin is marrying your...second cousin once removed?”</p>
<p>“Who even knows,” Jai said, and hugged Jon as well. “It’s great to see you, man. It’s been ages since we were all on the Titans together and, uh…well. You know.”</p>
<p>Jon forced a smile. Of course he knew. “Yeah, it’s good to be back.”</p>
<p>Polite handshakes with Barry and the other Iris followed, then Wally and Linda, then the other Wally. That had to get confusing. Jon’s family had two Jonathans, but at least one of them mostly went by “Grandpa” these days. And absolutely no one was named “Bartholemew.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Jon, welcome back,” Bart said when Jon finally made it down the handshaking line to the groom.</p>
<p><i>“Thanks,”</i> Jon responded in careful Interlac. <i>“Jenni’s off-world on a mission, but she said to tell you she will absolutely be here in time for the wedding dinner, and something about playing saxophone at the wedding?”</i></p>
<p>Bart’s eyes widened. <i>“YoulearnedInterlac?OhmanthisisamazingIhaven’tspokenInterlacinyearshowsmyaccentisitterriblehow’sJenniismygrandfatherstillpresidentofEarthandishestillevil?”</i></p>
<p><i>“Slow down, I don’t know it well enough to go that fast!”</i> Jon said, laughing, and caught Kara beaming at them past Bart’s shoulder. Okay, he’d earned some points there.</p>
<p>“Hi, Jon.”</p>
<p>Jon turned. Tim was standing there, a pensive expression on his face, but Jon remembered that being pretty much the default for him, so it probably didn’t mean anything.</p>
<p>“Hey, Tim,” he said, shaking the offered hand. “It’s good to see you.”</p>
<p>“You, too. How’s the future?”</p>
<p>Jon shrugged a shoulder and smiled wryly. “Never gets any less weird. How’s...how’s the family?”</p>
<p>“They’re fine,” Tim said. Any hope that he didn’t know what Jon had almost asked vanished when he added, “They’re <i>all</i> fine. You should...you should visit. If you have time.”</p>
<p>Oh, no. Jon knew where he was welcome—and where he wasn’t. “Oh, yeah, I don’t know, with the wedding and all…”</p>
<p>“Right, right, of course,” Tim said, then glanced at his phone as it buzzed. “Well, actually, if you want to catch up, Da—”</p>
<p>“What?” Jon called over his shoulder, in response to nothing. “Oh, sorry, my mom needs me.” He pointed at Mom, who was unfortunately deep in conversation with Linda Park-West and could not look less like she wanted to talk to him. “‘Scuse me!”</p>
<p>He did not flee, because Kents didn’t do that, but he did…<i>scurry</i>, a little, maybe, in the direction of his parents. Maybe he could spend the rest of brunch practicing Interlac with Bart and avoid any more pity invites to Wayne Manor.</p>
<p>It was one of the smaller things he’d lost, but it still sucked. He’d spent so many afternoons there, all through his teenage years: doing homework, helping Alfred in the kitchen in order to avoid doing homework, sparring in the cave, listening to war stories from Dick and the others. It had been a second home to him.</p>
<p>But he wasn’t a teenager anymore, and Legion HQ was his second home now. He was over it.</p>
<p>He was over <i>him</i>.</p>
<p>Brunch was buffet-style, which Jon suspected was at least partially to keep the waiters from collapsing with exhaustion trying to bring enough plates to keep a party with seven speedsters fed. He was waiting his turn and hoping Jai and Wally didn’t take <i>all</i> the bacon out of the chafing dish when he picked up on familiar footsteps outside. A familiar heartbeat. A familiar scent.</p>
<p>
  <i>No.</i>
</p>
<p>The door to the private room opened and Damian Wayne stepped in.</p>
<p>The ceramic plate in Jon’s hands snapped in two.</p>
<p>“Drake,” Damian said. “I’ve just been to the venue and we need to talk about the security risks it poses—”</p>
<p>His gaze fell on Jon. Jon saw the startled blink of recognition, the way Damian’s shoulders grew even more tense than their usual angry rigidity. He felt his own face grow hot.</p>
<p>“—and how you expect double checking the invitations at the door to stop this town’s multiple walking nuclear reactors,” Damian continued, turning to Tim as if Jon wasn’t standing right there. As if he meant nothing.</p>
<p>As if <i>they’d</i> meant nothing.</p>
<p>“Yeah, thanks, Damian, can we not do this here?” Tim asked, shooting a mortified look in Jon’s direction. “Bart, Kara, sorry about this, I’ll be right back.” He took Damian’s arm and all but hauled him back out of the room, to Damian’s obvious annoyance.</p>
<p>The door swung shut and Jon realized that everyone was looking at him.</p>
<p>Oh god.</p>
<p>“Whoops,” he said, holding up the plate and forcing a sheepish smile. “There’s that super strength again! Guess they make plates stronger in the future.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw a surprised expression on the face of the one bridesmaid he didn’t know, one of Bart’s friends from high school. Okay, so he maybe just gave away a lot of secret identities. This just kept getting better and better.</p>
<p>“Here.” Jai thrust a plate loaded with bacon and waffles and swimming in syrup at him. “You need this more than I do right now.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Somehow Jon managed to eat a waffle or two under the weight of too many pairs of sympathetic eyes. It wasn’t <i>everyone</i> looking at him with pity. Just his family, and the speedsters who’d been Titans with him or Damian—Jai and Irey and the younger Wally. And Stephanie, one of the bridesmaids—she was a Bat, she probably knew too. But Jon was grateful that at least he didn’t have to put up with Barry Allen or Max Mercury giving him a “buck up, little camper” face.</p>
<p>Tim slunk back in like a scolded dog a few minutes later and had a whispered conversation with Kon in the corner. Jon could have listened, but decided not to, for his own self-preservation.</p>
<p>When they were done, Kon came and sat by Jon. “Sorry,” he said.</p>
<p>Jon didn’t want to say it was fine, because it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to pretend he didn’t know what Kon was talking about, either, so he just kept eating.</p>
<p>“Only a couple of the Bats are coming to the wedding. Kara and Bart didn’t want to make it one of the big superhero blowouts, you know,” Kon said. “So Tim volunteered some of his family to provide security. More subtle than a bunch of Green Lanterns standing around with force fields, right?”</p>
<p>Jon chewed. Swallowed. “Makes sense.”</p>
<p>“Tim said he tried to tell you Damian was in town.”</p>
<p>Jon thought back to their conversation. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he did.”</p>
<p>“I know it’s weird, but hey, this whole wedding’s kinda like that, right?” Kon said. “I mean, Cassie’s the maid of honor! I’m walking down the aisle with my ex, Tim’s walking down the aisle with his, we just gotta get Damian a bridesmaid’s dress and the theme will be complete.”</p>
<p>Jon put his fork down and just looked at Kon. Mom, who had been valiantly pretending she couldn’t hear them, leaned over his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Conner, sweetheart, I think you should go talk to Stephanie and Carol for a bit, don’t you?” she asked.</p>
<p>Kon looked at her, then back at Jon, then hastily stood up. “Uh, yeah, Lois, good call.”</p>
<p>Mom gave Jon a quick rub between his shoulder blades but otherwise didn’t say anything else, not even to ask if he was okay. Jon really loved her.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>That night, Jon lay in his childhood bed, heels digging into the foot of the bedframe, and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars he’d put on the ceiling when he was ten. He couldn’t sleep, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.</p>
<p>Damian.</p>
<p>Damian had been Jon’s first everything. First best friend. First crush. First relationship. First <i>time</i>, shy and awkward and laughing about it because it was <i>them</i> and they were together.</p>
<p>First heartbreak.</p>
<p>It all seemed kind of charmed, when Jon looked back on it. Goofy adventures riding around on Goliath and hopping between dimensions with cartoonish stakes and ridiculous villains. Hanging out in the Fortress and bickering over whose dad was cooler. Joining the Titans when he was finally, <i>finally</i> old enough, first with Wally and Billy and Emiko, then later Jai and Irey and Lian—and of course, always Damian. Even the parts that had seemed hard at the time, like when he woke up one day with the world’s worst crush and spent the next three years pining for his best friend, looked hazy and sentimental now, like he’d been going through the motions of suffering just because he liked the romance of it all.</p>
<p>They’d lived in each other’s pockets for nearly a decade. They were in different cities, but that didn’t matter when Jon could fly to Gotham faster than Damian could send a text. He’d slept at Wayne Manor at least one night a week for years. Alfred bought him his own toothbrush. It was blue.</p>
<p>It wasn’t easy, really, because they were risking their lives on a regular basis, and also because <i>Damian</i> wasn’t easy, never had been. He was made of sharp edges and defensive walls and sneering condescension as a default mode of expression, and yeah, it could be frustrating. But he was <i>Jon’s</i>, even before they were together, and he let Jon see enough of his heart that it didn’t matter if Damian wasn’t easy. He was worth the work.</p>
<p>Jon had been seventeen the first time they’d kissed. They used to argue about it, playfully, who kissed who first, but the truth was they’d somehow both just known. Sitting on a roof after patrol, listening to the sounds of Gotham, and Jon had started to say something and looked at Damian and forgot what it was—and then they were kissing and Damian’s hands were in his hair and Jon’s heart had felt too big to fit inside his chest.</p>
<p>It had felt inevitable. It had felt like they were where they had always been going, all this time.</p>
<p>It lasted six months. They spent even more time together. Jon spent six nights a week at the manor instead of one, first in his own guest bedroom, then...not. He started looking at colleges in Gotham. Lian told him frankly that the two them were nauseating, but Irey thanked him because she said Damian had never gone so long without making her want to slap him before.</p>
<p>One night, lying in Damian’s ridiculously huge bed and listening to the steady tick of his heart, Jon told him he loved him.</p>
<p>The next morning, Damian broke up with him.</p>
<p>Jon had joined the Legion the day after he graduated high school. And now, here he was, five years later, five years <i>older</i>, and theoretically moved on. And all it had taken was one dismissive glance, one total lack of acknowledgement, to make him feel scrubbed raw all over.</p>
<p>“This is stupid,” he told the glow-in-the-dark stars. “I’m <i>over</i> him.”</p>
<p>The stars offered no response.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The next day was fittings. Really, it was just Jon being fitted—Bart and Kon and Tim and Wally and Jai had been fitted for their tuxes ages ago, although Kon kept insisting he needed to be re-measured in case he’d suddenly gotten “even more swole” since the last fitting. Everyone ignored him.</p>
<p>The tailor had based Jon’s measurements on Kon’s, since they were almost the same size—although Jon <i>was</i> taller, no matter what Kon said—and his tux only needed minor adjustments.</p>
<p>“He says he can do it in time for the wedding,” Bart said when the tailor stepped into the back room to get more pins. He and Kon and Jai and Wally were wandering idly around the shop, poking into drawers and knocking over neatly folded stacks of pocket squares. Jon thought maybe his cousin and three speedsters under thirty was a bad combination to be at loose ends, especially since Tim was uncharacteristically late. “But I promised Kara that if he couldn’t I’d just learn to sew at super speed and do it for you, so we’re fine either way.”</p>
<p>“Did Kara actually take you up on that?” Jon asked. He didn’t know Bart all that well, but he <i>had</i> been there the time Bart had decided to learn to sculpt at super speed. Before that Jon had had no idea that clay could explode.</p>
<p>“Oh, no, she said your grandma would do it. But I say it’s still on the table!” Bart said, striking a confident pose and knocking over a mannequin.</p>
<p>The front door swung open. “Sorry I’m late, we were at the venue,” Tim said, and Jon <i>had</i> to be more alert, he had to have telescopic and X-ray vision on at all times even if it meant he spent all day staring at the bones of people ten blocks away, because he could <i>not</i> keep being surprised when Damian walked into the room.</p>
<p>Damian clocked him immediately, of course, because Damian never entered a room without scanning it for threats. But there were no threats here, unless Bart knocking another mannequin over counted. Just Jon, standing there in a tuxedo that didn’t quite fit right, probably with a stupid expression on his face.</p>
<p>Bart darted over to Tim. “Why, what’s wrong with the venue, is everything okay?”</p>
<p>“No,” Damian said.</p>
<p>“<i>Yes</i>,” Tim said, elbowing Damian in the side. “Damian was concerned that aren’t enough defensible positions inside, but I reminded him that this is a wedding and not the Battle of Gettysburg.”</p>
<p>“A wedding of <i>soldiers!</i> During <i>wartime!</i>” Damian snapped.</p>
<p>“There is no war, you absolute maniac,” Tim said, in a tone that suggested he had had this argument many times before.</p>
<p>Damian glowered at him. “We’re always at war,” he said. “I’ll wait in the car. Make it fast.”</p>
<p>He slammed out of the shop without waiting for a response from Tim. Or acknowledging Jon’s presence. Again.</p>
<p>“Argh,” Tim said, fingers clenching like he was imagining them around Damian’s neck. “Sorry, Bart. He’s been more paranoid than usual since we got to Metropolis. I don’t know if he thinks Gorilla Grodd wants you to stay single or what, but he’s convinced the wedding is going to be attacked by supervillains.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think Gorilla Grodd cares about my marital status,” Bart said pensively. “He’s never mentioned it.”</p>
<p>Kon coughed into his fist. “Tailor’s coming.”</p>
<p>“Uh, Gorilla Grodd being my...nickname for my...local fishmonger,” Bart said quickly. “On account of how gorillas...love fish.”</p>
<p>Wally groaned. The tailor looked bemused.</p>
<p>“Right, well, your <i>fishmonger</i> wasn’t invited to the wedding, so I don’t think we have to worry about him crashing, but Damian’s being very…<i>Damian</i> about it,” Tim said. “I swear, he’s always been a little pill and these last few years he’s been extra pilly, but it’s like another level since we got here. I don’t know what his problem is with this city, but…”</p>
<p>He trailed off. Everyone was very pointedly not looking at Jon, except for the tailor, who was adjusting the hem of Jon’s pants. Jon coughed and pasted a smile on his face.</p>
<p>“So! Bart!” he said as brightly as he could. “Where are you guys going for the honeymoon?”</p>
<p>The tailor marked the adjustments he’d need to make on Jon’s tux and promised to have it done in the allotted time. No one else needed any alterations made, and the appointment wrapped up quickly.</p>
<p>At least Jon had learned something from the first two times. When they walked out of the tailor’s shop to find a sleek red sports car with tinted windows parked in front of it and Damian leaning against it looking irritable, Jon was the only one not surprised.</p>
<p>Tim rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know, your time is valuable. Could we skip the dramatics for once and just—”</p>
<p><i>BOOM!</i> An explosion shook the streets and they all looked to the south to see a plume of smoke and fire rising into the sky.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t look like it!” Wally said.</p>
<p>“Damian and I will catch up, go!” Tim said, yanking open the car door. Damian was already sliding across the hood toward the driver’s seat.</p>
<p>Jon pointed. “Alley.” He, Kon, and the speedsters ducked into it. Jon heard the sports car’s engine start up as he scanned the alley for open windows or cameras. “We’re clear.”</p>
<p>There was a blur of activity and then he and Kon flew up out of the alley in costume while Bart, Wally, and Jai zipped down the street toward the fire. They left their clothing piled behind a dumpster; if it wasn’t there when they got back, it had gone to someone who needed it more. Jon was just glad they hadn’t still been wearing their tuxedos.</p>
<p>“Looks like a construction site,” Jon said as they flew toward the flames.</p>
<p>Kon squinted. “The old Binder Tower. It’s been scheduled for demolition for months.”</p>
<p>That was good—it meant less likelihood of civilian casualties. Still… “I doubt this is how the city wanted it done,” Jon said.</p>
<p>As they drew close they could see that what had presumably been Binder Tower was now a smoking heap of rubble. Standing in the middle was some guy in a mask and a green cape who Jon had never seen before. Jon cared less about him than the fact that the flames from the explosion had leapt to the surrounding office buildings and it was the middle of a workday.</p>
<p>The speedsters arrived at the same time as Jon and Kon. “We got the civilians!” Bart called up, and Kon waved to show he’d heard. The speedsters vanished into the buildings and civilians started appearing on the streets like they’d been blown there by little gusts of air.</p>
<p>“All these heroes and still that coward doesn’t dare to show his face!” yelled Cape Guy. “SUPERMAN! Come out and face your nemesis: THE ANNIHILATOR, JR.!”</p>
<p>“Who?” Jon asked. Kon shrugged.</p>
<p>Jon flew down to Cape Guy—or the Annihilator, Jr., apparently. “Sorry, he’s busy. Will I do?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely not—” the Annihilator, Jr. started to say, and Jon punched him in the teeth.</p>
<p>The Annihilator, Jr.—boy, that was a mouthful—barely blinked. “That all you got, boy?”</p>
<p>“Nah, he just didn’t want to kill you if you only had human-level durability,” Kon said, landing next to them and glancing at Jon. “What would you say, bud, like Rampage-level?”</p>
<p>Jon scoffed. “Hardly. Maybe like a Toyman robot, but one of the crappy ones, you know? Like the ones that he didn’t spend too much time on.”</p>
<p>“Oh, those are fun to smash.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me, I’m right here,” the Annihilator, Jr. said.</p>
<p>Jon looked at Kon. “Would you care to do the honors?”</p>
<p>Kon held up his hands. “Oh no, no, he’s all yours.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.” Jon wound up and <i>really</i> punched the Annihilator, Jr. this time. The Annihilator, Jr. toppled over, out cold. “This was a very stupid supervillain fight.”</p>
<p>That was the easy part. The hard part was searching for the little pockets of fire that had spread to at least ten buildings and putting them out with super breath without hurting anyone. Bart, Jai, and Wally zipped past as Jon sought out hot spots, carrying office workers in their arms as they went. They were fast, but Metropolis office towers had thousands of people in them, and they were still working by the time Tim and Damian arrived.</p>
<p>One of the buildings next to the explosion had suffered structural damage, and a support beam had come down, injuring several of the workers on that floor. Jon hoisted it on his shoulders to keep the ceiling up so they could run for the stairwell, but some of them couldn’t walk, let alone run. And he couldn’t put the beam down.</p>
<p>“I need backup!” he yelled, knowing only Kon could hear him. He wasn’t wearing a comm; he hadn’t worn a comm that worked in this century for five years. “I have civilians here who need help evacuating!”</p>
<p>“I’ve got them,” a familiar voice said, and Damian emerged from the smoke, wearing a rebreather and handing more of them out to the civilians. He nodded at Jon as he lifted an unconscious woman into his arms, and for a moment Jon felt the dizzy swoop of time travel—not to the thirty-first century, but to a few short years ago when they were partners, when they never had to call for backup because they always had each other.</p>
<p>Then Damian was gone, and Jai and Wally were whisking the other civilians to safety, and Jon let the beam and the memories go.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long after that—Dad and Kara showed up, and Steph and Cassie and the rest of the speedsters, and with so many heroes they were able to get all the civilians out with no deaths and few serious injuries. Jon flew up to the roof of a nearby building that <i>hadn’t</i> been touched. He wanted to make extra sure that nothing was on fire and no one was trapped, and from up here he could get a better angle on the scene.</p>
<p>“All the buildings are clear.” Damian was already on the roof. Of course he was. He held up a pair of goggles. “Thermal imaging.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Jon said. “Good.”</p>
<p>Either Damian had gotten even more handsome over the past five years, or distance had dulled the edges of Jon’s memory. Even soot-stained and exhausted he was beautiful, the sharp, elegant planes of his face glowing golden in the sun. Jon supposed he was lucky Damian was still wearing his mask; he’d always been a sucker for Damian’s eyes.</p>
<p>“I need to talk to you,” Damian said.</p>
<p>Jon’s heart thumped in his chest. He told himself not to imagine what the next sentence out of Damian’s mouth would be, to just let it be whatever it was. He didn’t even know what he would <i>want</i> it to be.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” he said.</p>
<p>“It’s about Tim.”</p>
<p>Well, that was...nowhere near anything Jon would have guessed. “What about Tim?”</p>
<p>“He’s not taking any of this seriously,” Damian said. “Danvers and Allen have enemies. Their families—<i>your</i> families—have more. Do you really think none of them are planning to use this wedding to get revenge? I mean, look at what happened at Allen’s grandfather’s wedding!”</p>
<p>“He...married Bart’s grandma?” Jon guessed.</p>
<p>“Not <i>that</i> wedding. His second one. Professor Zoom almost killed the bride.”</p>
<p>Jon frowned. “Why was Barry marrying someone who wasn’t Iris?”</p>
<p>“He thought she was dead—look, it’s not important,” Damian said. “The point is, do you want to deal with this now, or <i>after</i> some supervillain snaps your cousin’s neck on her wedding day?”</p>
<p>The gruesome image reminded Jon that he wasn’t here to discuss the intricacies of Bart’s family history—or anything, really. Not with Damian. “Okay, first of all, can we not do the morbid hyperbole thing about my cousin? You think you’re being tough, but you’re actually just being gross. And second of all, <i>this</i> is what you want to talk to me about?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry,” Damian said, with a familiar tilt of his head that meant he was rolling his eyes behind the white-out lenses. “Was there anything else to say?”</p>
<p>“You could have started with ‘hello’ yesterday,” Jon said. “It’s been five years. You couldn’t say hi?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you don’t get to be indignant here,” Damian said. “You <i>chose</i> to leave. We lost the heaviest hitter on our roster overnight!”</p>
<p>Jon’s mouth fell open. “You <i>dumped<i> me!” he said. “You broke up with me and didn’t even give me a <i>reason</i> and you’re mad because of the <i>Titans roster?</i>”</i></i></p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“My choosing to end our relationship is no excuse for your lack of professionalism,” Damian said, and Jon certainly hadn’t forgotten how haughty Damian could be when he chose.</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Unbelievable,” Jon said. He lifted a few inches off the roof. “Go to hell, Damian. Or at least back to Gotham before you ruin my cousin’s wedding.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>He flew away before Damian could respond, but there was nowhere in Metropolis that he wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he spoke.</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Damian didn’t say a word.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>DAMIAN NO.</p>
<p>Please enjoy me Trojan Horsing the utterly random pairing of my heart in here with a Bart/Kara wedding. But they would be so sweet! Also it's possible that I forgot Jai wasn't a speedster until I'd already written many thousands of words where he was, so let's all agree that he'll get those powers eventually, okay?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And God Knows How I've Cried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night after dinner there was a knock on Jon’s bedroom window. He pulled back the curtain to see Kara floating outside.</p>
<p>“Hey, baby cuz,” she said, smiling. “Want to go flying?”</p>
<p>They took a lazy flight across the country, winging over Hamilton and past Smallville until they reached National City. They settled on the roof of the CatCo building and Kara took a deep breath.</p>
<p>“I missed that Pacific Ocean smell,” she said. “I know it’s not as sleek as Metropolis, but I really love this place.”</p>
<p>“Did you think you and Bart will move back here?” Jon asked. He knew they both had jobs in Metropolis, plus a tiny one bedroom that they shared.</p>
<p>“I hope so,” Kara said. “We’re talking about it, maybe in the next couple of years. Bart would like Keystone or Central too, but the Wallies kind of have that covered, and obviously your dad and Kon have Metropolis. National could use some protectors. Plus I have a lot of friends here. Bart doesn’t really know anyone, but he makes friends fast.”</p>
<p>The fond look on her face as she talked about Bart made something in Jon’s chest hurt. “You’re really happy, aren’t you?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Bart’s just...he’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. I don’t think I ever knew someone could be so reliable and so surprising at the same time. It’s like, I never know what to expect, but I know he’s always on my side. Does that make sense?”</p>
<p>Jon nodded. He couldn’t speak around the sudden lump in his throat.</p>
<p>“I’m really happy you’re here,” she said. “I know it’s crisis after crisis with the Legion and it can be hard to get away. It really means a lot that you were able to come. I wanted to say that.”</p>
<p>“Aw, you know I wouldn’t miss it,” Jon said. “House of El forever, right?”</p>
<p>“<i>El mayarah</i>,” she said. Jon had never learned much Kryptonese, but he knew this one. <i>Stronger together.</i> “But also...I wanted to apologize.”</p>
<p>“For what?” Jon asked, even though he was pretty sure he already knew.</p>
<p>Kara sighed. “When Tim said he’d take care of security, I was just relieved to have something off my plate. I didn’t really think about whether it would mean that Damian was here, or what it would mean for you if he was.”</p>
<p>“It would be a lot easier if everyone would stop handling me with kid gloves,” Jon said, sharper than he meant to. “Sorry. But, I mean, Kon said it himself. He’s here with Cassie, Tim’s here with Steph, and no one’s looking at them like they might burst into tears at any moment.”</p>
<p>“I guess it’s because you’re the baby,” Kara said, giving him a friendly little nudge. “We’re always going to want to protect you. Besides…” She winced apologetically. “<i>Kon</i> didn’t take his breakup with Cassie so badly he moved to another century.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t like that! I just needed some space. And I didn’t really want to go to college, so…” Jon spread his hands. It had been exactly what he needed—a completely new world, with enough to keep him busy that he didn’t have time to mope, and nothing familiar to remind him of Damian.</p>
<p>Of course, everything had reminded him of Damian at the beginning anyway. But that was a long time ago now.</p>
<p>“Anyway, you’re all acting like because I went away, no time passed and I’m still that heartbroken eighteen-year-old kid,” Jon said. “It’s been five years for me too! I’ve moved on! I’ve dated other people and everything.”</p>
<p>“Wait, other people—you mean Legionnaires?” Kara asked. Jon nodded. “Okay, I know this is serious but you <i>have</i> to tell me who you dated on the Legion <i>immediately</i>.”</p>
<p>Oh, right. Jon knew intellectually that Kara had been a member of the Legion when she was in high school—the other Legionnaires talked about her plenty, and Kon, who’d also been a member briefly—but it was always weird crossing those streams.</p>
<p>“Princess Projectra, for a little while,” he said. “And, uh...Brainy.”</p>
<p>Kara’s jaw dropped. “Shut up,” she said. “You dated <i>Brainy?</i>”</p>
<p>“Off and on,” Jon admitted, squirming a little. “We’ve been off for a while. Is it weird?”</p>
<p>“That you dated my ex?” she asked, and he nodded. “It’s a little weird, but mostly on his part. I mean, talk about having a type.” She tilted her head. “That goes for you, too, you know.”</p>
<p>Jon raised an eyebrow. “Uh, don’t worry, I’m not about to ask this century’s Brainiac out on a date.”</p>
<p>“No, I mean...Projectra and Brainy?” The look Kara gave him was entirely too knowing. “You sure do like ‘em arrogant and condescending, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Jon crossed his arms and looked away. He hadn’t actually ever looked at it that way. “...Coincidence.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” Kara gave him another gentle nudge. “Hey. It’s really okay if you <i>aren’t</i> okay. You know that, right?”</p>
<p>“I know,” Jon said. “But I’m fine.”</p>
<p>And he <i>was</i> fine. He was only here for a week—less than that, now. And if Damian kept acting the way he had today, all it would do was prove that there was nothing there for Jon to be missing.</p>
<p>There had been something more, once, behind the anger and the defensiveness. There had been humor, and loyalty, and a fierce protectiveness. There had been inside jokes and whispered secrets. There had been a softness, when it was only the two of them to see.</p>
<p>But if that part of Damian was lost, it wasn’t Jon’s job to find it. Not anymore.</p>
<p>“Well...good,” Kara said. Jon could tell that she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t push it, just slung an arm around him and tipped her head back to look at the stars. “I love you, baby cuz.”</p>
<p>He leaned his head on her shoulder like he used to do when he was ten and she was his favorite babysitter. “I love you, too.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Jon woke with the sun, as usual. There were no wedding events that required his presence today, which meant a whole day to spend with his parents. They’d always been close, but before joining the Legion Jon hadn’t realized just how much he’d miss their time together.</p>
<p>He also missed bagels, which were tragically unknown in the thirty-first century, and he could smell the first batch in the oven at Siegel’s three blocks over. He threw on some clothes, ruffled his hair into something approaching order, decided to skip shaving, and headed downstairs.</p>
<p>Damian was waiting outside.</p>
<p>Well, now Jon kind of wished he’d shaved.</p>
<p>“Where were you last night?” Damian demanded.</p>
<p>Jon’s eyebrows went up. “Wow. Pretty sure you lost the right to keep tabs on me when you broke up with me, D.” He started walking toward Siegel’s. Damian could follow or he could go be a weirdo somewhere else, but either way Mom was getting her onion bagel with veggie cream cheese.</p>
<p>Damian did indeed follow him, because of course he did. “Don’t flatter yourself. Just answer the question.”</p>
<p>Jon sighed. “Kara and I flew to National City and got back around midnight, and then I went to sleep like a normal person who doesn’t spend my nights hanging upside down off GCPD headquarters.” He gestured back toward his parents’ apartment. “My mattress might be still warm if you want to confirm my alibi, but fair warning that my mom <i>will</i> slap you upside the head if she sees you.”</p>
<p>“<i>Tt</i>,” Damian said, and Jon resolutely did <i>not</i> let the familiar sound affect him. “So you weren’t near the wedding venue at all?”</p>
<p>“Uh, no,” Jon said.</p>
<p>“Then who is this?”</p>
<p>Damian shoved his phone in Jon’s face, forcing Jon to stop walking if he didn’t want to hit it nose-first. It was a grainy photo of a Metropolis street, presumably the one the wedding venue was on, timestamped to last night at 1:13 AM. The street was mostly deserted, but there was a guy in a baseball cap and a hoodie standing with his chin tucked down and his hands shoved in his pockets. Between the clothes and the poor quality of the photo it was hard to tell, but he did kind of look like Jon.</p>
<p>“Um, some guy?” Jon said, taking the phone to get a better look. Microscopic vision just made it go pixelated. “What am I looking at?”</p>
<p>“Barbara tapped us into the local security feeds,” Damian said. “It’s Metropolis, so mostly it’s people helping each other across the street and picking up litter. But this guy showed up around one, walked around the building a couple of times, and left. And he looks just like you.”</p>
<p>“I mean, kinda,” Jon said. It was really hard to tell. “Maybe more like Kon.”</p>
<p>“I know your jaw,” Damian said. “I know your posture.”</p>
<p>Jon made the executive decision not to think about <i>that</i>. He thrust the phone back at Damian and started walking again. “Well, so?” he said. “What are you saying here? That I’m lying and I was actually skulking around the wedding venue in the middle of the night for nefarious purposes?”</p>
<p>“I <i>also</i> know when you’re lying,” Damian said. “You’re…<i>cartoonishly</i> bad at it. So no, I don’t think this is you.”</p>
<p>“But you just said—!”</p>
<p>“Clayface,” Damian said. “Everyman. Madame Rouge.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Shapeshifters,” Jon said.</p>
<p>“Animal-Vegetable-Mineral Man.”</p>
<p>“Who?”</p>
<p>“And that’s not even taking into account the illusionists,” Damian continued. They’d reached the bagel shop, which thankfully didn’t have a line this early in the morning. Jon opened the door, and Damian followed him in. “<i>Someone</i> is staking out that building, and they’re using your face to do it.”</p>
<p>“I still don’t think that guy looks that much like me,” Jon said. “Good morning, Mr. Siegel!”</p>
<p>“God in heaven, it’s Jonathan Kent!” Mr. Siegel said. “Where have you been, boychik? You’ve been getting bagels somewhere else, maybe?”</p>
<p>“Never,” Jon said. “I’ve been going to school abroad.” It was the standard story his parents always gave out, although it was going to stop sounding plausible soon. “Listen, can I get—”</p>
<p>“I know, I know. Onion, charred black, with veggie cream cheese; toasted sesame with plain; cinnamon raisin, not toasted, with strawberry. Am I new?” Mr. Siegel nodded toward Damian. “And your friend?”</p>
<p>Jon glanced at Damian. “Whole wheat, toasted, tofu scallion. Oh, and four coffees, please? Two black, two light and sweet.”</p>
<p>“I don’t need—” Damian started.</p>
<p>“Have you eaten?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Am I wrong?”</p>
<p>“...No.”</p>
<p>Mr. Siegel glanced back and forth between them and quickly busied himself with slicing bagels. Jon sank into a chair at one of the little shop’s half-dozen cafe tables. Damian didn’t sit.</p>
<p>“I have breakfast back at my hotel,” he said.</p>
<p>“Just take the damn bagel, Damian,” Jon said, rubbing his temple. “Did you even sleep last night?”</p>
<p>“Enough,” Damian said.</p>
<p>He was a better liar than Jon, but he was still lying. Jon could see the shadows under his eyes, the fine tremor in his movements that meant he was running on even less sleep than usual.</p>
<p>“Sure,” Jon said. “Why are you even up at this hour?”</p>
<p>“I wanted to talk to you alone,” Damian said. “And I know you wake up early.”</p>
<p>Because they used to wake up in the same bed, as many mornings as they could get away with and still not nearly enough. Because Jon loved watching the morning sunlight play across Damian’s sleeping face, relaxed and content the way it almost never was when he was awake. Because he used to spend the time before Damian woke up memorizing the exact angle of his eyebrows, the curve of his nose, every tiny scar too small and well-healed for human eyes to notice.</p>
<p>And the way Damian would look at him when he finally opened his eyes and saw Jon lying across from him...</p>
<p>At least, until the morning Jon woke up and Damian was already gone.</p>
<p>Jon forced the memories away, both good and bad. Neither of them would make this any easier. “I assume you want to talk about my alleged doppelganger?” Because if he was about to be taken to task again for quitting the Titans—a team Damian hadn’t even been on for years at this point—the heir to the Wayne and Al Ghul empires was getting a whole wheat and tofu spread bagel in the nose.</p>
<p>“It’s your face,” Damian said. “I’d think you want to make sure no one was abusing it.”</p>
<p>“I still don’t think he looks that much like me,” Jon said. He squinted up at Damian, who was backlit by the sun coming in the bakery window. It made him hard to read, which Jon knew was why Damian always put the light at his back if he could. “So, what? The Super Sons ride again?”</p>
<p>“<i>Tt</i>,” Damian said. “Don’t romanticize it. I have a job to do. You have a cousin to marry off to a walking sugar rush. If we work together, we can get this done quickly, and with a minimum of disruption to the wedding. Isn’t that what you want?”</p>
<p>The <i>last</i> thing Jon wanted was prolonged time with Damian, especially chasing what he was pretty sure was a figment of Damian’s paranoia. But the words “a minimum of disruption” gave him pause. If Damian was busy with Jon, he wasn’t interrupting pre-wedding activities and stressing Kara and Bart out.</p>
<p>Jon had told Kara he’d moved on. Maybe it was time to prove it.</p>
<p>“Jonny! Order up!” Mr. Siegel called.</p>
<p>Jon stood up, paid for the bagels and coffee, and thanked Mr. Siegel. Then he returned to the cafe table, prised one of the black coffees out of the cardboard carrying tray Mr. Siegel had provided, and fished the whole wheat out of the paper bag of bagels. He put them both on the table in front of Damian.</p>
<p>“I’m having breakfast with my parents,” he said. “I’ll find your hotel after. And just remember I’m doing this for Kara, and not because I take orders from you.”</p>
<p>For a second he thought Damian looked surprised, but it might have just been a trick of the light. “Believe me, Kent,” he said, “I’m under no illusions.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Jon pointedly did not think about how quickly he zeroed in on Damian’s heartbeat in order to locate his hotel room, although he probably could have just as easily shown up at the Metropolis Ritz and asked what their most expensive suite was.</p>
<p>He was a little surprised to find Dick and Cass there too, picking at room service and clicking through security feeds on WayneTech laptops. But of course it made sense that Tim wouldn’t have just asked Damian to cover security—Damian was just the only one being a total weirdo about it.</p>
<p>“Jonno!” Dick said. He did a flip over the back of his chair and came toward Jon with his arms outstretched, then paused. “Are hugs still okay?”</p>
<p>Jon smiled. “Hugs are okay,” he said, and let himself be embraced. Dick had always been super nice to him, and a good person to go to for brotherly advice when he suspected that any advice Kon would give would be...maybe best taken with a grain of salt. He knew Dick was the first person Damian had told about their relationship, too, back when they <i>had</i> a relationship.</p>
<p>When Dick let him go, Cass was standing there with a little smile on her face. “It is good to see you again, Jon.”</p>
<p>Jon hugged her too. “You too, Cass. Are you guys totally bored up here?”</p>
<p>“Eh, it’s a nice mini vacation,” Dick said. “We went to the Superman Museum yesterday. They have a <i>very</i> cute exhibit on your early career.”</p>
<p>“Not just Jon,” Cass said, her smile widening.</p>
<p>“Okay, yes, they have a picture of me in the short pants from the first time I met your dad,” Dick said, rolling his eyes. “<i>Everyone</i> has pictures of me in the short pants, I’ve made my peace with it.”</p>
<p>“If you’re done with the garden party small talk, can we discuss the actual case?” Damian interrupted from his seat at the suite’s dining table. Dick pulled an apologetic face at Jon and made a “go ahead” gesture, and Jon sat down across from Damian. While Dick and Cass were in T-shirts and sweatpants, Damian was already wearing most of his costume, minus the mask and gauntlets.</p>
<p>“So what’s the plan?” Jon asked.</p>
<p>“We’ve been running facial recognition, but you can scan the footage faster,” Damian said, pushing a laptop over to Jon with multiple security feeds pulled up on it. “From there, we can figure out any patterns to his movements, and then we can track him down.”</p>
<p>“And if we wind up terrorizing an ordinary civilian with a vague resemblance to me…?” Jon asked.</p>
<p>Damian shrugged. “He’ll live.”</p>
<p>Jon rolled his eyes and started all the feeds at once, running them at their fastest possible speed. His gaze flicked across the screen as Metropolitans darted back and forth, going about their daily lives. He didn’t expect to find this figment of Damian’s imagination doing anything suspicious, but—</p>
<p>“Got him,” he said suddenly. “And...again. And again. Three different spots.”</p>
<p>“What are they?” Damian asked.</p>
<p>Jon paused the feed. “Outside Kara and Bart’s apartment building. Near CatCo East. And a block away from the tailor’s shop while we were there.”</p>
<p>He looked up. Damian’s expression was grim, which didn’t necessarily mean anything—but so were Dick and Cass’s, which did.</p>
<p>“Still think it’s an ordinary civilian?” Damian asked.</p>
<p>Jon shook his head. “But why does he look like <i>me?</i>” he asked. “I haven’t even been in this century for five years!”</p>
<p>“Maybe that’s why,” Dick said. “It seemed like a safe identity to take. No chance of running into, uh, yourself.”</p>
<p>“Who would want to hurt Kara and Bart?” Cass asked, taking the chair next to Jon’s.</p>
<p>“Plenty of villains, I guess,” Jon said. “But I can’t think of any shapeshifters or magic types. I mean, why would Clayface or whoever even <i>know</i> about their wedding, let alone care about it? Kara mostly has the same rogues as my dad and me, and Bart’s are all speedsters and gorillas and speedster gorillas.”</p>
<p>“Please tell me there is not actually a speedster gorilla out there because that is a terrifying concept,” Dick said.</p>
<p>“It could be someone new,” Damian said. “Or a team-up with one of their rogues. Or an evil version of you from an alternate dimension.”</p>
<p>“I wish I lived the kind of life where I could dismiss that as implausible,” Jon said. He wondered if it was worse that he was so calm about this. He didn’t love the idea of an evil version of himself potentially wandering around Metropolis with nefarious intent—or an evil shapeshifter or wizard—but he’d seen so much weirdness in his life that it almost felt normal. More normal than hanging out with his ex and two of his ex’s siblings, actually. “Okay, so how do we find possibly alternate evil me? I scanned the city on my way over here and didn’t see him. Uh, me. Whoever.”</p>
<p>“The old-fashioned way: bait in the trap,” Damian said. “He wants to spy on Allen and Danvers? Then <i>we</i> spy on Allen and Danvers.”</p>
<p>“Okay, first: no, that’s creepy,” Jon said, holding up two fingers. “And second, Kara has super hearing, so good luck.”</p>
<p>“You can tell her what we’re doing, if it puts your conscience at ease,” Damian said, rolling his eyes, though whether that was at the concept of consciences in general or Jon’s in particular, Jon wasn’t sure. “Anyway, we don’t have to pay any attention to what they’re doing. We just need to know where they are, because that’s where our mystery stalker will be.”</p>
<p>“Objection number three,” Dick said, holding up three fingers. “Jon’s the only one of us who can keep up with Bart <i>and</i> Kara, and if they separate, we don’t know which one of them the stalker will follow.”</p>
<p>“Actually, Kon said he and Bart and Tim were having a guys’ day,” Jon said. “Just text Tim and tell him to keep an eye out. I’ll let Kara know I’ll be keeping an eye on her until the wedding.”</p>
<p>“<i>We’ll</i> be keeping an eye on her,” Damian said. Jon raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know what kind of sloppy stakeout habits you’ve fallen into with the Legion. Do you want this done right or not?”</p>
<p>There were two days left until the wedding. Two days sitting on rooftops and crouched in alleys with Damian, breathing in the still-familiar scent of him and not talking about what happened between them.</p>
<p>Jon reminded himself that this was for Kara.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he said.</p>
<p>“We’ll take nights,” Dick offered. “You guys need to sleep sometime, and they’ll be in bed at night, so we won’t need super speed to keep them under surveillance. And, um, neither of us has super hearing, so if they decide to start the honeymoon early…”</p>
<p>Jon made a face. “You’re talking about my <i>cousin</i>,” he said.</p>
<p>“Who will still have her privacy thanks to our useless human ears,” Dick replied.</p>
<p>“Why are we still <i>talking</i> about this?” Damian asked, putting on his mask. “We have a plan. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“Right. Give me and Jon a sec, okay, Dami?” Dick said, standing up. “Cass, don’t let him listen in.”</p>
<p>“<i>Tt</i>. I’ll start eavesdropping on you when you start saying something interesting, Richard,” Damian said, pulling his gauntlets on.</p>
<p>Feeling a bit sheepish, Jon followed Dick into one of the many other rooms of the suite and waited until he closed the door. “Dick, I appreciate the thought, but I’ve already gotten the ‘Hey, are you okay?’ speech from like six different people, so…”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I was going to say,” Dick said. “Listen, I like you a lot, Jon, but Damian’s my baby brother. I’m more worried about <i>him</i> being okay.”</p>
<p>“Damian?” Jon scoffed. “He’s always okay.”</p>
<p>“You know that’s not true,” Dick said. “You’re one of the few people he lets see it when he’s not. Or you were.”</p>
<p>Jon’s jaw tightened. “That was a long time ago.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Dick said. “I just...you were so good for him. Even before you were together, when you were just friends, you made him so happy. And ever since you left, he’s been…” He sighed. “He’d never say this, and he’d kill me for saying it, but he’s been miserable.”</p>
<p>Jon stared at Dick. He’d never been angry at Dick before, never even considered the possibility, but he was rapidly approaching “need to go punch a giant robot to work off the rage” territory. “What am I supposed to do with that information?” he asked. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for him? You know he broke up with <i>me</i>, right? Was I supposed to stick around and be his platonic emotional support alien or something?”</p>
<p>“No, no, I get it, I really do,” Dick said, holding up both hands placatingly. “I get why you left, I get why you wouldn’t be thrilled about this situation. I’d probably feel the same way in your position. And I know how he gets. I’m not asking you to take any crap from him, and I’m not asking you to pretend he hasn’t hurt you. I guess I just wanted you to know that he’s been hurting too, even if he won’t admit it.”</p>
<p>Jon shook his head. “Right,” he said. “Yeah. Thanks for the tip.”</p>
<p>He opened the door and walked back into the main room of the suite. “You ready?” he asked Damian.</p>
<p>“I’ve been waiting on you,” Damian sniffed.</p>
<p>“Fine. Let’s go,” Jon said, picking Damian up and flying out the window. He didn’t look back. He knew he was being rude, especially to Cass, who hadn’t said anything to upset him, but he couldn’t deal with Dick right now.</p>
<p>Of course, that meant that he was alone in the open air with Damian pressed to his side, which wasn’t necessarily better. He could feel the warmth of Damian’s breath against his cheek, the flex of Damian’s core beneath the arm he had looped around Damian’s waist. A thousand flights just like this came back to his memory: the way his heart used to race at having an excuse to hold Damian this close, back before they were together. The way Damian used to instinctively curl in to him when they went too fast or too high and he got cold. The pride Jon had taken in having Damian’s absolute trust—so hard-earned—that he was safe in Jon’s arms.</p>
<p>“Where is she?” Damian asked. His voice seemed unusually subdued, like he was remembering the same things Jon was. Or maybe Dick was getting to Jon already. “At work?”</p>
<p>“No, she took a couple weeks off for the wedding and the honeymoon,” Jon said. “I think maybe a bridal shower? Or...another woman thing? My mom said something about unlimited mimosas this morning.”</p>
<p>“It better not be a bachelorette party,” Damian said. “I do not need to see your mother stuffing singles into some guy’s thong.”</p>
<p>Jon winced. “Gross, thanks for that.”</p>
<p>It was not a bachelorette party, for which Jon was grateful. It was something halfway between brunch and lunch in one of the trendier neighborhoods of Metropolis. Kara and Mom were sitting outside with the bridesmaids and the other women in the families, and Kara was unwrapping presents.</p>
<p>Jon settled on a roof overlooking the restaurant’s outdoor seating area. The minute they touched down, Damian took two big steps away and Jon bit his tongue. “What are they doing?” Damian asked.</p>
<p>Jon focused his eyes and ears. “Iris just gave Kara a fancy casserole dish and everyone’s really excited about it.”</p>
<p>He couldn’t actually see when Damian was rolling his eyes unless he X-ray visioned Damian’s mask, but it was obvious Damian was doing it. “All of these wedding rituals are ridiculous. What a pointless waste of time and energy.”</p>
<p>Jon was busy texting Kara, as he’d said he would. <i>d and i are keeping an eye out for supervillain stuff. nothing to worry about but if you notice a shadow it’s just us chickens.</i></p>
<p>He leaned out over the edge of the roof again. Kara checked her phone, squinted upward, and gave him a thumbs-up, which he returned.</p>
<p>“I think it’s nice,” Jon said, scanning the streets around them. No sign of his doppelganger. “I mean, I don’t get what’s so special about the casserole dish, but all of these gatherings. They’re nice.”</p>
<p>“You think everything’s nice,” Damian said witheringly.</p>
<p>“Really?” Jon asked. “You want to go there? Because there are definitely things I don’t think are ‘nice’ and I’m pretty sure you can guess which category you fit into.”</p>
<p>“You wound me. Truly,” Damian drawled.</p>
<p>“Bart and Kara love each other,” Jon said. “They want to celebrate that with their families and friends. We lead such crazy lives—is it really so wrong to just want to have a nice brunch or three to say, ‘Hey, you found each other and you make each other happy, congrats on the miracle?’”</p>
<p>“It’s all empty pageantry!” Damian snapped. “It’s fluff! They can drink all the mimosas they want down there and it won’t change the fact that this whole week can be undone with twenty minutes at a divorce lawyer’s office.”</p>
<p>“They <i>love</i> each other,” Jon repeated, his jaw tight.</p>
<p>Damian shrugged. “If you say so. I don’t know them very well. I don’t know or care how they feel. By all means, they should get their paperwork in order if it makes it easier to deal with this country’s bureaucracy. But there’s no need to waste everyone’s time with all of these trappings, especially when ninety-nine times out of a hundred, when the illusions are gone and the lust has faded, you’re left with nothing but a commitment you should never have made in the first place.”</p>
<p>Damian folded his arms and lifted his chin, the way he always did when he was convinced he’d just made a winning argument, and it <i>hurt</i>. It hurt to see him make the same gestures and stand the same way and shine in the midday sun and <i>know</i>, no matter what Dick said, that Damian had never loved Jon the way that Jon had loved him. Never even came close, or he couldn’t talk like this.</p>
<p>Just lust and illusions.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to tell me,” Jon said once he was pretty sure his voice was under control. “I’ve known how you felt about this for five years.”</p>
<p>For a second, Damian’s expression seemed to falter—but a scream ripped through the air, audible thanks to Jon’s super hearing, and Jon whipped his head in the direction it had come from.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Damian asked.</p>
<p>“Screaming,” Jon said, scanning the city. “Looks like…there. Centennial Park.”</p>
<p>“Let’s go,” Damian said, and Jon snatched him up off the roof and flew toward the scene of the crime. Dad and Kara would have heard the scream, and Cassie and Steph and Irey were with Kara and would help, but they’d have to get away from civilian eyes and change, and that would cost precious seconds.</p>
<p>“Can you see anything?” Damian asked as they flew.</p>
<p>Jon shook his head. “Just smoke.”</p>
<p>He didn’t turn to look at Damian, focused on the roiling cloud of smoke in the distance, but he could hear the frown in Damian’s voice. “How is <i>that</i> possible?”</p>
<p>Because Jon’s X-ray vision should be cutting through the smoke. “A few ways,” Jon said. “None of them good.”</p>
<p>Sure enough, once they got closer, Jon could make out familiar shapes in the smoke. He groaned. “Blaze and Satanus,” he said. “Perfect.”</p>
<p>“I’ve read the dossiers, but give me the details,” Damian said, which was his way of saying <i>I have no idea who these people are but refuse to admit ignorance.</i></p>
<p>“Demonic siblings. Like, actually demonic. They like to steal souls, and also to try to kill each other. I don’t know if they’re teaming up or fighting each other, but neither is good for Metropolis.”</p>
<p>“And if they’re demons, they’re magic, which means…”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Jon said. “They can hurt me.” He <i>hated</i> magic.</p>
<p>Blaze and Satanus were squaring off in—oh no, a <i>playground</i>. Jon sent up a brief thanks to whoever was in charge of things that it was a weekday, but there were still plenty of parents and nannies with kids too young for school. All of them looked terrified, and most of the children were crying.</p>
<p>Satanus was holding one of the children aloft, his enormous clawed hand wrapped around the little girl’s midsection. Jon felt Damian tense against him. He’d always gotten especially angry when bad guys targeted children. Well, most heroes did, but Jon had always gotten the feeling that Damian was seeing his own past whenever a child was hurt.</p>
<p>He landed between the demons and the bulk of the civilians, and let Damian go. Damian immediately circled to the side, flanking the demons. “Put her down, Satanus,” Jon said.</p>
<p>“That’s <i>Lord</i> Satanus to you, whelp,” Satanus said. Unsurprisingly, he did not put the little girl down.</p>
<p>“Brother, this whelp smells familiar,” Blaze said, inhaling deeply. “Why, it’s the littlest one. Not so little anymore, are you?” Her smile was predatory.</p>
<p>“Don’t be creepy,” Jon said. “I know it’s a big ask. I mean, all these visits to Earth and you couldn’t invest in a single pair of pants between the two of you?”</p>
<p>“This is infernal regalia!” Satanus said.</p>
<p>“Yes, well, here we call them loincloths,” Jon said. “And they’re borderline inappropriate for a playground, so why don’t you two just head back down to Hell and—<i>now!</i>”</p>
<p>He fired his heat vision, narrowing the focus to strike precisely at Satanus’s wrist—a pressure point that Damian had taught him more than a decade ago. Satanus yelped and released his grip on the girl—and Damian sprang forward and caught her, tucking her against his body as he flipped out of range.</p>
<p>“Insolent mortal!” Satanus bellowed.</p>
<p>Blaze laughed. “Oh, I <i>like</i> you grown, little Super-whelp,” she said.</p>
<p>“Again, creepy,” Jon said. Behind him he could hear Damian urging the civilians back, handing the little girl over to her mom. “Now go back to Hell!”</p>
<p>Jon flew at Satanus fist first, socking him in the jaw with everything he had. It would have sent even someone tough like Mongul or the Eradicator reeling, at least for a minute, but Satanus’s stupid magic deadened its impact, so that he only staggered back a step or two before shaking off the blow.</p>
<p>“Is that the best you can do?” he asked, and swung at Jon. Jon dodged, but Satanus’s armored fist caught his ribs, and even the glancing blow hurt.</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye he saw Damian swing into the fight, hurling smoke bombs and bolas. He managed to pinion Blaze’s arms with the latter for a second until she flexed and shredded the titanium wires they were made of. Damian sniffed and knocked his fists together, and Jon heard the crackle of electricity that meant Damian had turned on the tasers wired into the knuckles of his gauntlets.</p>
<p>Blaze was still more than a match for Damian, pound for pound, but Jon knew Damian was fast and skilled, and he had his own opponent to worry about. He dodged another punch from Satanus, fired a blast of heat vision, threw another haymaker—always pushing Satanus back, away from the civilians, away from the children. He needed to move this fight away from the city, but flying Satanus away would mean leaving Damian to deal with Blaze alone, and Jon wouldn’t abandon him.</p>
<p>“Stand still, you obnoxious rodent!” he heard Blaze shriek.</p>
<p>Satanus caught Jon on the chin, dizzying him. Jon shook his head, staggered back, and fired up his heat vision again.</p>
<p>“They’re <i>demons</i>, you idiot!” he heard Damian yell. “Don’t use <i>heat!</i>”</p>
<p>Oh. Right.</p>
<p>Jon inhaled and <i>blew</i>, sending a wave of super-cooled air at Satanus. It coalesced around him, encasing him in a solid block of ice, with only his head and fingertips sticking out.</p>
<p>“I’ll devour your soul!” Satanus yelled.</p>
<p>“Right,” Jon said. “Like I was saying: <i>go back to—</i>”</p>
<p>There was a thud, and Damian went flying past him. His back slammed into a tree, <i>hard</i>.</p>
<p>“No!” Jon said as Damian crumpled to the ground. He raced to Damian’s side and then froze, afraid to touch him in case he had a spine injury. “Are you—?”</p>
<p>A blast of fire hit Jon in the back and he yelled, as much from surprise as from pain. It was actually <i>burning</i> him!</p>
<p>He grabbed at his flaming cape, but before he could pull it off, he was dragged back by a clawed hand. Blaze threw him to the ground, and he winced as his raw and blistered skin made contact. He tried to get up, but there was a <i>crack!</i> and shards of ice rained down around him as Satanus put a heavy boot on his chest.</p>
<p>“Time to die, whelp,” Satanus said.</p>
<p>“Oh no, brother,” Blaze said. “Smell his soul. So righteous, so pure...so <i>delicious</i>. Why destroy his flesh when we could feast on that for centuries?”</p>
<p>“You can’t just take it,” Jon gritted out. He could still feel the infernal flames licking at his back, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs with Satanus’s foot on his ribcage. “I know how this works. You have to make a deal with me. And I’m not playing.”</p>
<p>“Aren’t you?” Blaze asked. “There are so many other mortals here who are so much frailer than you. Wouldn’t any of them sell their souls for the lives of their little brats? If we don’t take yours, we’ll have to bargain with them...and I don’t think you want that, do you?”</p>
<p>Jon tried to stand up, to push Satanus off, but he couldn’t get the leverage; couldn’t get enough air in his lungs for freeze breath or focus through the pain enough for heat vision. He knew Blaze and Satanus didn’t bluff. If he didn’t offer them his soul, they’d hurt the children until some if not all of the parents traded <i>their</i> souls instead. Jon couldn’t let that happen, any of it.</p>
<p>“All right,” he started to say. “You can have my—”</p>
<p>“Take mine.”</p>
<p>Jon craned his neck to see Damian walking toward them—slowly, clearly in pain, but moving.</p>
<p>“No!” he said. “Get back, get the civilians out of here—!”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Damian told him, and turned to the demons. “I’ll make a bargain with you. Go back to Hell without harming anyone else here, and you can have my soul.”</p>
<p>“Why would we want your tainted little soul?” Satanus asked. “I can smell the corruption on it from here.”</p>
<p>“That’s exactly why,” Damian said. “How many pure souls have you tricked out of mortals? Like his, like theirs?” He gestured to Jon, still struggling under Satanus’s boot, and the children. “How many have traded theirs to you after they’ve gone astray later in life, trying to undo their mistakes? But mine was twisted from the cradle. My hands were bloody before I could walk.” He smiled, so vicious it made Jon shiver. “Go ahead, take me to Hell. I bet even they’ve never seen anything like me.”</p>
<p>Blaze and Satanus exchanged glances. “It <i>would</i> be a new experience…” he said.</p>
<p>“Very well,” she replied. “All right, little mortal, we will have your soul and leave these others to their nightmares.” She held out a hand, claws growing as her fingers extended. “We have a deal.”</p>
<p>“No!” Jon shouted again.</p>
<p>Damian held up a hand, but in a <i>stop</i> gesture rather than to shake hers. “Right, a deal. Just a minute, though.” He counted down on his fingers. “Three...two...one…”</p>
<p><i>WHAM!</i> Cassie punched Satanus clear across the playground. Jon lurched up with a gasp.</p>
<p>Suddenly the playground was buzzing with superheroes—Dad and Kara and Kon, Cassie and Steph and Tim and Dick and Cass, pretty much every speedster. Blaze and Satanus exchanged another look, clearly not liking the odds.</p>
<p>“Another time, Superman!” Satanus called in Dad’s direction.</p>
<p>Blaze pointed at Damian. “We’ll be back for <i>you</i> in particular.”</p>
<p>Damian folded his arms, visibly unconcerned. “I look forward to it.”</p>
<p>Blaze snapped her fingers, and both demons were engulfed in a wave of flame. When it dissipated, they were gone.</p>
<p>Dad hurried over and helped Jon up. “You okay, buddy?”</p>
<p>Jon winced as he stood, but the pain was already fading with the demons’ departure. “Yeah,” he said. “You guys showed up just in time.”</p>
<p>He glanced over at Damian, who tapped his ear. “Next time keep your comms on,” he said. “It’s called stalling while you wait for backup.”</p>
<p>Jon leaned heavily on Dad’s arm. “Yeah?” he said. “And if they hadn’t made it in time? Would you have gone through with it?”</p>
<p>Damian’s eyes were inscrutable when the mask was on, and Jon was too weak to look beneath it. Or maybe he was just too afraid of what he’d see.</p>
<p>“Get some sun,” Damian said. “Heal up. We still have a job to do.”</p>
<p>And he walked away.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Jon lay in bed that night, feeling the mattress sway gently beneath him as the glow-in-the-dark stars went in and out of focus. So this was what being drunk was like. Huh.</p>
<p>That evening had been Bart’s bachelor party. Jon’s back had been fully healed by the time he met Bart and the other groomsmen outside their destination.</p>
<p>“You know, I was having a hard time picturing Bart at a strip club,” Wally had said. “This makes way more sense.”</p>
<p>Bart’s eyes were shining. “An <i>arcade</i>.”</p>
<p>“An <i>adult</i> arcade,” Kon said. “A full bar, better food, better <i>music</i>, um...higher basketball hoops…”</p>
<p>“Thisisthebestthankyou!” Bart said, and zipped inside.</p>
<p>Kon wiped a mock tear away. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”</p>
<p>They’d had a table reserved in the corner, and Kon had been right: the food was <i>much</i> better than the cardboard-y pizza Jon remembered from the arcades of his childhood. “Not sure what good the bar is going to do us, though,” Jai said, and Jon remembered that speedsters, like Kryptonians, couldn’t get drunk.</p>
<p>“Oh, ye of little faith,” Kon said with a smile, and pulled out a flask. “I got John Constantine to brew it. It should work on all of us.” He paused. “Actually, Tim probably shouldn’t drink it, he might die.”</p>
<p>Tim sighed. “It’s all right, I’ve accepted that my role in life is the eternal designated driver.”</p>
<p>Kon offered the flask to Bart, who had just blitzed back over to the table with his arms full of tickets. “Well, buddy? You’re the man of the hour. Want to do the honors?”</p>
<p>Bart took a swig and made a thoughtful face. “Tastes like...bananas and swamp water.”</p>
<p>“How do you know what swamp water tastes like?” Wally asked.</p>
<p>“I went to high school in Alabama. Wait, gross, are we drinking Swamp Thing?”</p>
<p>Everyone looked at Kon, who shrugged.</p>
<p>Bart echoed the gesture. “Eh, Swamp Thing’s a nice guy,” he said, and took another pull before handing the flask to Jai. “Now who’s gonna play me in DDR?”</p>
<p>Jon had had to agree with Bart’s assessment once the flask got around to him—it did not taste pleasant. It was also profoundly effective. It wasn’t a large flask, but by the end of the party he felt pleasantly floaty and also everyone was a lot funnier than they had been three hours earlier.</p>
<p>Bart, who had never exactly been closed off, had grown even more effusive than usual. “I’m getting married the day after tomorrow!” he’d informed their server, the people at the next table, and every mole in the Whack-a-Mole game.</p>
<p>At one point he’d very seriously asked Jon if he knew Kara. “We’ve met, yes,” Jon said, doing a lousy job of trying not to laugh.</p>
<p>“She’s so great,” Bart said, resting his chin in his hands and staring dreamily into space. “She can lift an ocean liner <i>and</i> play guitar. Probably not at the same time. Actually, no. No!” He pointed an angry finger at Tim. “She <i>can</i> do both at the same time if she wants to! She’s <i>amazing</i>.”</p>
<p>“I...okay?” Tim said, looking slightly alarmed.</p>
<p>Bart dissolved back into dreamy happiness. “She’s gonna marry me and I’m gonna get to see her every day and we’re going to live together and she <i>loves</i> me,” he said. “I’d do anything for her. I’d fight anyone. I’d kick <i>your</i> ass,” he added in Tim’s direction.</p>
<p>“<i>Why?</i>” Tim asked. Wally patted him on the head.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna be Mr. Bart Danvers Zor-El,” Bart concluded blissfully, and promptly fell asleep.</p>
<p>“He’s not really, is he?” Jai asked Kon, who shrugged again.</p>
<p>Now, Jon lay in the dark and frowned at the plastic stars. Somehow the night had seemed less funny after that. Somehow Bart promising to fight Tim for Kara’s honor had gotten mixed up in his head with Damian standing in Centennial Park, offering to trade his soul for Jon’s.</p>
<p>But that had been a trick. That had been miles from the dreamy, open happiness on Bart’s face when he talked about Kara.</p>
<p>That had been something out of Jon’s reach.</p>
<p>“Jon.”</p>
<p>He was already thinking about Damian, so it took him longer than it should have to realize that he hadn’t imagined the voice. Damian was dangling from a grapple outside his half-open window, his boots braced against the side of the building.</p>
<p>Deja vu crashed over him, more disorienting than usual with the swamp booze still in his system. How many times had Damian come to his window over the years, offering adventure and excitement and rebellion? How many times had Jon’s heart leapt into his throat at the sound of his voice?</p>
<p>Jon climbed out of bed and pushed the window all the way open. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“Checking on your injuries,” Damian said. He was in costume, of course—the son of Bruce Wayne had no excuse to go grappling around Metropolis’s residential towers. “Roof.”</p>
<p>Before Jon could say anything, Damian hit the button to retract his grapple line and started to ascend to the roof. Jon sighed and flew out the window, landing on the roof just as Damian reached it and stumbling a little.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Damian asked. “I didn’t think the hellfire got you that bad.”</p>
<p>Jon shook his head, which—whoa, bad idea. “It didn’t. ‘M drunk.”</p>
<p>Damian cocked his head. “How did <i>that</i> happen?”</p>
<p>“Magic.” Jon plunked down at the edge of the roof and let his feet dangle over the edge. “It’s weird.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure,” Damian said. “I don’t indulge very often.”</p>
<p>Jon snorted. “You wouldn’t.” He patted the roof next to him. “Sit.”</p>
<p>Damian sighed and sat down beside him. “You look better.”</p>
<p>“Yep. All healed,” Jon said, wriggling his shoulders. There was no pain whatsoever, no lasting damage, which was probably fairly evident to Damian, since Jon had been too tired and loopy to do anything but strip down to his boxers and fall into bed when he’d gotten home. “You?”</p>
<p>Damian spread his hands, inviting Jon to look. It took longer than it should have to slip into X-ray vision, but the results once he did were reassuring: some nasty bruises, a few abrasions, but nothing to worry about.</p>
<p>“Good,” Jon said. “There. Injury check done.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Damian said, but he didn’t leave, and neither did Jon. They just sat there, side by side, looking out over the city.</p>
<p>“...So how’s the future?” Damian finally asked, and Jon laughed.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” he said. “Fine? No, it’s good, it’s...I like it there. The Legion is a good team. It’s not like the Titans, or even the League. There’s over thirty of us, and everyone’s so far from home that it’s really like...it’s like we’re our own little world.”</p>
<p>“Like a family,” Damian said.</p>
<p>“No,” Jon said firmly, shaking my head. “<i>This</i> is my family, here in Metropolis, now. But the Legion is...they’re special.”</p>
<p>“You’re happy there.” Damian didn’t phrase it like a question, but Jon could hear the question behind it anyway.</p>
<p>“Take off your mask,” he said, instead of an answer.</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>Jon rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t want to talk to a mask. I want to talk to Damian Wayne.” And X-ray vision was hard right now and he wanted to see Damian’s eyes again, because he was going back to the Legion in a few days and he was weak and Bart and Kara were so <i>happy</i>.</p>
<p>“Whatever,” Damian said, but he took the mask off. His eyes were soft and dark in the moonlight. They made Jon’s chest hurt, and it took him a minute to remember what Damian had asked, or rather carefully not asked.</p>
<p>“I enjoy being part of the Legion,” Jon said. The alcohol made the distance between him and Damian waver back and forth—now insurmountable, now close enough to touch, now out of reach again. “They’re my friends.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I asked,” Damian said, admitting the question.</p>
<p>Jon looked away, back at the city. He hadn’t thought about it before, not really. He’d told his parents he was happy, when they asked. “...I’m not <i>unhappy</i>.”</p>
<p>Damian’s heart was so familiar beside him. “Yeah?” he said. “What’s that like?”</p>
<p>Before Jon could turn and look at him again, he felt callused fingers on his cheek, tracing the line of his scar. He shivered. Damian must have taken his gloves off at some point. “How did this happen?”</p>
<p>“Kryptonite,” Jon said. “Guy called the Persuader. He has this axe, which normally can’t hurt me, but somehow his team got their hands on some kryptonite, and…” He shrugged. It had been terrifying at the time, but also over a year ago. “My mom says I’m still handsome,” he said, trying to make it a joke.</p>
<p>“You’re still <i>beautiful</i>,” Damian said fiercely.</p>
<p>Surprised, Jon turned to look at him, which left Damian’s hand cupping his jaw. “Was that a compliment?” he asked. He did an even worse job of making it a joke this time; the words just came out needy.</p>
<p>“Absolutely not,” Damian said. He didn’t take his hand away. “It’s a plain statement of fact.”</p>
<p>The world was still swaying. It swayed Jon into Damian, a little closer, toward his voice and the warmth of his touch and the shape of his lips.</p>
<p>“I miss you the most,” he admitted, when he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. “Of everything from home, I miss you the most. I miss you right now.”</p>
<p>He heard Damian’s heart beat faster—but then he took his hand away and pulled back. “You’re wasting your time,” Damian said, his voice very tightly controlled.</p>
<p>Jon let the hurt of it fall through him like a stone dropping into a lake.</p>
<p>It was his own fault. It didn’t matter that Damian had come to see if Jon was all right. It didn’t matter that he’d touched Jon’s face and told him he was beautiful. He’d told Jon that he didn’t care, and that was the part Jon needed to remember.</p>
<p>He floated up off the roof and turned to face Damian. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll get over you eventually.”</p>
<p>He flew back down and in through his window, and shut it tightly behind him. A minute later he heard Damian’s grapple shooting off across the skyline.</p>
<p>He hoped “eventually” would hurry up already.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Blaze and Satanus should really look into pants.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. And My Heart Is In Your Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Five years ago, Jon woke up alone.</p>
<p>His hand reached out across the mattress, encountering nothing but rumpled sheets. He sat up, yawning, and looked around Damian’s bedroom. As usual, everything was in its place. Everything except Jon’s boyfriend.</p>
<p>Jon peeked at the nearest bathroom with his X-ray vision, hoping he didn’t get an eyeful of one of Damian’s brothers, but it was empty. Huh. Was Damian already downstairs training? It was still early, and they’d had a late night—first fighting Clayface, then burning off the rest of their restless energy in bed. He smiled, his face going a little warm as he remembered Damian’s hands on his body, remembered whispering “I love you” into the curve of Damian’s shoulder and feeling the way he shook. Damian hadn’t said it back, but that was okay. Jon knew him. He <i>knew</i>.</p>
<p>He stretched and climbed out of bed, fishing clean clothes out of the overnight bag he’d started carrying back and forth between Gotham and Metropolis. He was too tall to borrow anything of Damian’s, and the one time he’d borrowed a shirt Jason had left at the manor Damian had gotten real squirrelly about it. Maybe Jon should just start leaving a collection of things here.</p>
<p>Alfred was flipping pancakes in the kitchen when Jon walked in, with a tiny pot of cocoa just big enough for Jon simmering on a back burner. “Good morning, Alfred,” Jon said. “Is Damian up?”</p>
<p>“Good morning, Master Jon,” Alfred replied, pouring the coca into an eggshell-delicate cup, placing it on a saucer, and handing it to Jon. “I believe he is training in the cave.”</p>
<p>“Gotcha. Can I help with anything?” Jon asked.</p>
<p>Alfred smiled. “Thank you, but I am nearly finished. If you’d care to take Master Damian his tea when you go down, I shall be along with breakfast in just a few moments.”</p>
<p>“You’re the best, Alfred.”</p>
<p>Juggling the tea tray, Jon made his way down to the cave. Damian was shirtless, moving through a choreographed series of steps with a katana. Jon set the tray down and watched, enjoying the skillful flash of the sword and the flex of Damian’s muscles.</p>
<p>Damian glanced over at him and suddenly stopped, and Jon heard his heartbeat accelerate. That was weird.</p>
<p>“Morning, babe,” Jon said. “I brought you some tea.”</p>
<p>Damian stepped off the practice mat, bowed, and used a cloth to make sure his sword was clean and dry before sliding it into its scabbard and placing it back on its rack with the other weapons.</p>
<p>“You were up early,” Jon said, feeling more uncomfortable the longer the silence went on. “Everything okay?”</p>
<p>Damian poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip. “I don’t think we should be romantically involved anymore.”</p>
<p>Jon froze. “What?”</p>
<p>Damian sipped his tea again. His expression was as distant as the remains of Krypton.</p>
<p>“You’re joking,” Jon said. “You’re—Damian, you’re joking, right?”</p>
<p>“I’m entirely serious,” Damian said. “It’s an unnecessary complication. We work well together. It would be foolish to compromise that to satisfy mere physical urges.”</p>
<p>“I—mere—we’re not just screwing around!” Jon said. “This is—you’re the most important—I <i>love</i> you!”</p>
<p>Damian’s expression faltered, but just by a hair. Human eyes might not have seen it. “I have a profound respect for your combat abilities,” he said. “But I have many responsibilities and I need to reconsider how I spend my limited time. Fraternization with a teammate is not the best use of it.”</p>
<p>“Fraternization?” Jon echoed. He grabbed Damian by the shoulders—not hard, never hard, but he needed to do <i>something</i> to shake that look off Damian’s face, to bring him closer to Earth. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but <i>talk</i> to me, okay? We can fix it, whatever it is. You’re trying to be all Son of the Bat here or whatever, but I know, I <i>know</i> you.” He moved his hands from Damian’s shoulders to his face. “This is real. <i>We</i> are real. Please.”</p>
<p>Damian met his gaze. “Please stop touching me,” he said, very quietly.</p>
<p>Jon dropped his hands and stepped back. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to be ashamed of them. This was the best thing he’d ever had, the thing he’d wanted more than anything, and Damian was destroying it because...why? What had Jon done?</p>
<p>“You love me,” Jon said. “I know you do. You’re going to change your mind, and when you do, you have my number.”</p>
<p>Damian was already turning away, back to the weapons rack. “I’ll see you at the next Titans meeting,” he said.</p>
<p>Swiping the back of his hand across his eyes, Jon turned—to see Alfred standing on the stairs leading to the manor, holding a covered tray and looking stricken. Mortified, Jon took a deep breath and headed up the stairs.</p>
<p>“Master Jon…” Alfred said as Jon reached him, and then fell silent.</p>
<p>“Thanks for everything, Alfred,” Jon said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Say goodbye to everyone for me, would you?”</p>
<p>Alfred nodded, and Jon left the cave. Left the manor. Left Gotham.</p>
<p>Left Damian.</p>
<p>When the call came, it was a week later and it wasn’t from Damian. It was from the Legion, which Jon already knew about thanks to Kon and Kara’s tenures.</p>
<p>His phone hadn’t rung, not even when he’d skipped the Titans meeting. Accepting the Legion’s offer had been a surprisingly easy decision, and when he stepped out of the time portal into a new world, so unlike anything he’d known before, he knew it had been the right choice. This would make it easy to get over Damian.</p>
<p>So why hadn’t he?</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The wedding rehearsal went surprisingly smoothly. Bart’s mother and Jenni had popped out of their time portal earlier that day, so the whole wedding party was there, and everyone made it down the aisle with a minimum of missed cues and stumbles.</p>
<p>Afterwards, they had dinner in the private room of a restaurant so nice Jon suspected Tim had dipped into the Wayne funds to cover it. It was a shame Jon had no appetite.</p>
<p>Between the main course and dessert, Dad stood up, holding his glass. “I promise I’m not going to make a big speech,” he said as everyone fell silent. “I’ll leave that to the best man tomorrow.”</p>
<p>He nodded toward Kon, who grinned and flourished the small velvet ring box he’d been entrusted with. Dad didn’t quite roll his eyes, but Jon could tell he wanted to.</p>
<p>“Right,” Dad said. “Anyway, I just want to share a Kryptonian wedding tradition with you. Of course, I don’t have direct memories of this myself, but teaching me more about our home planet is just one of the many ways my cousin Kara has brightened my life, as I know she’s brightened so many of yours.”</p>
<p>Kara, radiant in a white sundress, smiled tearily at Dad and reached for Bart’s hand.</p>
<p>Dad went on: “The Kryptonese name for this—and Kara, don’t make fun of my accent—is—”</p>
<p>Suddenly he froze—mouth open, wine glass in hand, halfway through a word. Concerned, Jon tried to lean forward, and found that he couldn’t move, either. Everyone in his field of vision was frozen in place, expressions of confused horror on their faces.</p>
<p>The wall in front of Jon shimmered the way it did when Bart or Irey vibrated through something, and two figures stepped through, one pulling the other behind him. They were both blond and eerily familiar, though Jon had never met either of them. The one in the lead had Bart’s face, but with an expression of vicious glee on it that Jon couldn’t imagine Bart ever making.</p>
<p>The one in the back...was Kon, or at least a paler version of him with ash-blond hair. Jon looked at the features that he and Kon had both inherited from Dad and realized who “Jon’s” supposed doppelganger on the security footage had been. God, they were so <i>stupid</i>.</p>
<p>“Looks like the stasis field worked,” said Kon’s clone. He had a name, Jon had been told his name at some point. Match? He was pretty sure that was right.</p>
<p>“Of course it did. I’m a genius,” said the man Jon was assuming was Bart’s clone, nodding toward the device he held in his hand. Jon had no idea who he was, but from the fury on the faces of every speedster he could see, this guy wasn’t a newcomer. “It won’t hold most of these metabolisms for long, though, so don’t dawdle.”</p>
<p>“Thad,” Bart managed, visibly straining against the field that held him in his chair. Jon could see flickers of electricity dancing along his skin. “What…”</p>
<p>Bart’s clone—Thad, apparently—bent down and gave him a mocking smile. “You didn’t really think I’d let you get married, did you? Have a bunch of freakish little half-alien babies like those two over there?” He waved vaguely in Jon and Kon’s direction.</p>
<p>“Hey, <i>I’m</i> a freakish half-alien baby too,” Match pointed out, looking offended.</p>
<p>“Sorry, babe. The <i>point</i> is,” Thad continued, turning back to Bart, “that the Allen line is finally going to die with you, and only the Thawnes will remain. Grandfather will be so pleased.”</p>
<p>“Thought you were dead,” the older Wally gritted out.</p>
<p>“Who stays dead these days? I mean, this is the wrong crowd for <i>that</i>, am I right?” Thad spread his hands. “But don’t worry, we’ll kill the alien too, just in case Bart pops back up like the weed he is. Takes two to make more Allens.”</p>
<p>“And then we’ll kill a bunch more of you, just for fun,” Match added, snagging the ring box out of Kon’s frozen hand with a mocking air and then punching him in the face. Kon, unable to defend or even brace himself, toppled out of his chair.</p>
<p>“All of the Allens,” Thad said rapturously. “All of the Wests. Even one stray Ognats.” He nodded in Jenni’s direction. “All in one room for me to wipe out at once. I really should thank you, Bart.”</p>
<p>Something whistled through the air and hit the device in Thad’s hand with a <i>crack!</i>, shattering it into several pieces.</p>
<p>A Batarang. Jon’s heart lifted.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t start patting yourselves on the back just yet,” Damian said from a skylight that Jon was pretty sure hadn’t been open before.</p>
<p>“Crap,” Match said.</p>
<p>Jon found he could move—and suddenly the room was a blur of super-speed, as every Kryptonian and speedster leapt after Thad and Match. The sheer volume of heroes made pursuit harder; Jon couldn’t get anywhere near them.</p>
<p>“You creepy little bigot!” Kara said as Thad ducked out of her reach. “‘I’ll kill you and your bride to end the <i>male</i> bloodline’? What kind of paternalistic psychopath nonsense is that?”</p>
<p>“Yeah!” Bart said, racing after Thad. “I mean, I knew you were a murdery jerk, Thad, but I didn’t know you were <i>sexist</i>. Maybe all our kids will be Danverses! You don’t know!”</p>
<p>“Oh no, they’re all gonna be Allens now, just to piss him off,” Kara said. “And we’re having <i>ten</i> of them and they will <i>all</i> have heat vision.”</p>
<p>“I will gestate half of them! For equality!” Bart called back.</p>
<p>“Ugh, every time you say anything I hate you more,” Thad said, ducking under Bart’s reach and socking him in the stomach.</p>
<p>A sudden punch sent Jon staggering back. “Hey, baby brother,” Match said. “Haven’t seen you at the family reunions.”</p>
<p>Jon lunged at him. “You’re not my brother!” he said. “You’re just my dad’s clone’s Bizarro!”</p>
<p>“Hey! I’m not a Bizarro!” Match said, looking offended. “Whoops, incoming.”</p>
<p>He shoved Jon to the left—directly into the path of Kon, who was swooping in toward Match. They collided in a way that would have been funny if it hadn’t been so painful, and if two supervillains weren’t currently trying to kill them and everyone they loved.</p>
<p>“Match, you unbelievable jerk,” Kon said as they tried to detangle themselves. “Come after me, fine. But my cousin’s wedding? That’s a real scumbag move.”</p>
<p>“Hey, she’s my cousin too,” Match leered.</p>
<p>Kara’s heat vision hit him in the back. “I am <i>not!</i>” she shouted. “Kon, my Bizarro is adorable, why is yours such a dick?”</p>
<p><i>“I’m not a Bizarro!”</i> Match bellowed, sweeping his own heat vision around in a blazing arc. Mom and Linda had knocked over a table and corralled the other non-hero guests behind it; Jon flung himself between Match’s blazing eyes and the table and braced himself. Another Kryptonian’s heat vision wouldn’t do him lasting damage, but it still didn’t feel <i>good</i>.</p>
<p>Damian’s boots struck Match between the shoulder blades as he dropped down from the skylight. They only budged Match an inch, but it was enough to make him drop the heat vision. He whirled on Damian, lifting him up by the throat. “You,” he said. “You ruined Thad’s plan. Good thing <i>you’re</i> easy enough to kill, at least.”</p>
<p>“<i>No!</i>” Jon screamed, hurling himself forward, but Dad got there first. He pulled Match’s hand off Damian’s throat without letting his fingers close, let Damian down to the floor safely with one hand while twisting Match’s arm behind his back with the other, just hard enough to hold him in place.</p>
<p>“That is <i>enough</i>,” he said in the voice everyone always listened to. Some of the heroes even stopped moving, and Jon felt vaguely scolded.</p>
<p>But Thad didn’t seem at all intimidated. “Yeah, looks like this one was a bust,” he said. “I’ll kill you next time, Bart.”</p>
<p>“If you think we’re just going to let you go—” Barry started to say.</p>
<p>“Oh, you could try to hold us,” Thad said. “Or you could deal with the bombs I planted last night.” He pulled out a remote trigger and pressed the button.</p>
<p>Kon swore. Jon switched to X-ray vision and counted over a dozen bombs seeded throughout the restaurant. The restaurant that currently had over a hundred customers and staff in the main dining room and kitchen.</p>
<p>“Supers and Cassie, bombs!” Dad shouted. “Speedsters, evacuate the civilians!”</p>
<p>“Later,” Match said, wriggling out of Dad’s grip. He flew towards the wall, catching Thad up as he went, and Thad vibrated them out of the building.</p>
<p>Jon couldn’t worry about them. He had no idea how long the timers on the bombs were set for, but given how the speedsters had reacted to Thad, he suspected the guy wasn’t likely to give them much of a fighting chance. As the speedsters flitted out into the restaurant and started evacuating the people there and Damian, Tim, and Steph cleared the civilian wedding guests out of the back room, he grabbed the first bomb he spotted, flew out of the skylight, and flung it upward, then hit it with his heat vision. It detonated in a loud, fiery blast that would certainly startle the people of Metropolis, but wouldn’t hurt them.</p>
<p>The next minute was like the worst Easter egg hunt ever, as his family and Cassie searched for bombs and got them out of range of the city. By the time they finished, the civilians were all standing outside looking confused, and sirens were wailing in the distance, no doubt drawn by all the explosions.</p>
<p>“Well, <i>that</i> sucked,” Kon said. “God, Kara, I’m so sorry, I thought Match was in Belle Reve.”</p>
<p>Tim held up a finger. “Question: did Inertia call him <i>babe</i> at one point?”</p>
<p>“Okay, I’m glad I’m not the only one who heard that,” Steph said. “Is that a thing? Are they a thing?”</p>
<p>Kon frowned. “I have exactly zero idea how to feel about that,” he said.</p>
<p>“I would be happy Thad had something positive in his life if he hadn’t used it to try to kill me and my fiancee and our families,” Bart said. “Total Thad move, by the way. Thawnes are big-time wedding ruiners.”</p>
<p>Kara started to say something, then went pale. “Oh no,” she whispered, and dashed back into the restaurant.</p>
<p>Bart ran after her, with Jon and a few of the others close behind. “Kara?” Bart asked. “What’s wrong? I mean, besides the evil clone attack, that part was no good at all.”</p>
<p>Kara seemed to be frantically searching for something, scanning the room with a distant expression. “They’re not here,” she said. “They’re not here!”</p>
<p>“What’s not?” Bart asked.</p>
<p>“The rings!” she said. “Match took our wedding rings and they’re not...he must have…”</p>
<p>And she burst into tears.</p>
<p>Jon moved, but Bart got there first, wrapping his arms around Kara and letting her cry. “Hey, it’s okay, we can still get married. We don’t need the rings. Or we’ll get placeholders. We’ll get Ring Pops! Or we can steal some money from Tim, he’s loaded.”</p>
<p>“I would just <i>give</i> you the money, you know,” Tim said, but he didn’t look too annoyed, probably because the joke had drawn a wet laugh out of Kara.</p>
<p>“There’s no need to try to make Drake feel useful,” Damian drawled, stepping forward and holding out a little velvet box. “The clone’s clone might be strong, but he’s too stupid to notice when his pockets are being picked.”</p>
<p>Kara stared at him. “You...you got them back?”</p>
<p>Damian shrugged. “It was a simple matt—oof!” He staggered back a little as Kara grabbed him in a hug.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” she said, her voice still a little shaky. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Damian very clearly had no idea what to do with either the hug or the gratitude, but Kara let him go before Jon started feeling guilty enough to rescue him. He did take a quick step back when Bart approached, as if to avoid another hug, and Jon had to bite his lip not to laugh.</p>
<p>“Thank you so much, Damian,” Bart said. “You were killed by your evil clone once too, right? We should form a club!”</p>
<p>“We absolutely should not,” Damian said.</p>
<p>Bart moved on as if he hadn’t heard him. “Hey Kara, hon, do you maybe want to go home and not be in a semi-destroyed restaurant for a little bit?”</p>
<p>She nodded, still looking teary. “Uh, yeah, yes please.”</p>
<p>They filed out, Tim and the others behind them. Jon noticed Mom’s purse, forgotten in the mad rush for the exit, and picked it up. When he turned around, he realized Damian was still standing there, the only other person left in the room.</p>
<p>“Hell of a party, huh?” he said. “You know, I <i>thought</i> my doppelganger looked more like Kon.”</p>
<p>Damian’s jaw tightened. “I made a foolish error,” he said. “I didn’t assess the situation rationally. I was preoccupied with—” He cut himself off. “This was my fault.”</p>
<p>“How do you figure?” Jon asked. “From my perspective, you probably saved all of our lives. And maybe this whole...everything”—he waved at the destroyed room around them—“could have been avoided if I’d taken the idea that someone was trying to sabotage the wedding more seriously. That’s on me, not you.” He tried a smile. “But hey, at least they hit a day early, right? Now Kara and Bart can have a nice wedding tomorrow and not have to worry about supervillain attacks.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Damian asked. “Still?”</p>
<p>“Still what?”</p>
<p>“You’re still worried about whether they’ll have a ‘nice wedding?’” Damian said. “After this?” He echoed Jon’s earlier gesture, indicating the room around them. “Either one of them could have been killed! Anyone here—<i>you</i> could have been killed! Because two sentimental idiots decided to broadcast all of their vulnerabilities for everyone with an agenda to see!”</p>
<p>“It was fine,” Jon said. “We’re all <i>fine</i>. And I think Kara and Bart would both say it’s worth the risk.”</p>
<p>“Then they’re even stupider than I thought they were, and so are you,” Damian spat. “When are you going to get it, Jon? Love is a trap! If it doesn’t end in tearing each other to pieces it ends in death, and those are the <i>only options</i>. There is no happy ending. There is only grieving, and pain, and regret.”</p>
<p>“I don’t believe that,” Jon said. “And I don’t think you do, either.”</p>
<p>“What about me right now makes you think I’m not completely serious about this?” Damian asked. “What have I <i>ever</i> done that makes you think I don’t believe it?”</p>
<p>He was talking about five years ago, Jon knew. But Jon was pretty sure he understood Damian’s choice then a little better now.</p>
<p>“Then why did you save the rings?” he asked quietly.</p>
<p>Damian’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Jon said. “That’s what I thought, too.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>It was a beautiful wedding.</p>
<p>Jon didn’t trip walking down the aisle with Jenni on his arm. Kara looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Dad cried. No supervillains attacked.</p>
<p>The reception was all music and champagne and laughter, and if Jon was feeling a little wistful, a little melancholy, well, in the balance of things he was still pretty happy. He was happy to see his family. He was happy his cousin was loved. It was enough.</p>
<p>He was talking with Jenni and Irey when Kara tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, baby cuz,” she said. “I know our guardian angels are keeping an eye on things, but I think we’re probably safe now that the ceremony’s over.”</p>
<p>Jon raised an eyebrow. “And if Inertia and Match show up again…?”</p>
<p>“Then three non-metas aren’t going to stop them, and besides, I’d <i>love</i> a rematch.” Her eyes glowed briefly red. “Anyway, the point is, we have plenty of extra food if you want to go and bring some waywards Bats in from the cold.”</p>
<p>Dick, Cass, and Damian were milling around the outer corridors of the wedding venue “casually,” since it was still really too light out for the costumed rooftop skulking they prefered. Jon sent Dick and Cass in and went looking for Damian. He found him eyeing the venue’s single security camera with a judgmental expression, dressed in a suit that was less formal than Jon’s tux but had probably cost three times as much.</p>
<p>“Kara says we can probably lower the shields,” Jon said, shoving his hands in his pockets a bit awkwardly. He always felt so goofy in formalwear, especially compared to Damian’s sleek, elegant lines. God, Damian looked even better in a suit now than he had five years ago. “You want to come enjoy the reception? Dick and Cass are already inside.”</p>
<p>Damian sniffed. “Good to know they take their jobs seriously.”</p>
<p>“D, come on.” The nickname slipped out before Jon could stop himself, but no use worrying about it now. “You already saved the wedding. Twice. Come have some champagne and listen to the band. There’s a vegetarian entree and everything.”</p>
<p>“Well, who am I to resist a mediocre serving of eggplant parmesan?” Damian asked, rolling his eyes, but he followed Jon back into the reception hall.</p>
<p>Jon let Damian squeeze into a table with some former Titans, rather than be subjected to the awkwardness of the Kent-Danvers table. He tried to be polite, take part in the conversation around him, but through the entrees and the toasts and the dancing, his eyes kept straying back to Damian. Damian was quiet, but he didn’t seem like he was looking for an exit strategy. Just...subdued.</p>
<p>Once the plates from the main course were cleared, the band started up again, this time at a faster tempo. Jon let himself be pulled onto the dance floor by his family, but he couldn’t help noticing that Damian, unsurprisingly, stayed seated. He had never been much for the Cha-Cha Slide.</p>
<p>After watching Dad dance finally got too excruciating, Jon slipped away and dropped into an empty seat next to Damian. “See?” he asked. “Isn’t this better than standing around by yourself outside?”</p>
<p>Damian raised an eyebrow. “Sitting by myself inside? Yes, a vast improvement.”</p>
<p>“You’re not by yourself,” Jon said. “I’m here.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Damian said, sounding an awful lot like his father. And then: “When are you going back to the Legion?”</p>
<p>Right. There was still that. “Couple of days,” Jon said. “I want to spend some more time with my folks before I go. There hasn’t been a lot of free time this week, what with...well. You know.”</p>
<p>Damian didn’t say anything, but he didn’t dismiss Jon with a familiar <i>tt</i> either, so that was something. He just sat watching the dancers, and Jon sat watching him. He knew Damian was aware of his gaze—Damian always knew what was going on around him—but he didn’t object, and so Jon let himself rememorize the exact shape of Damian’s nose; the arch of his brow; the curve of his ear. Every beautiful, distant, beloved part of him.</p>
<p>From the moment Damian had broken up with him, Jon had only seen the coldness, the aloofness, the untouchable mask Damian presented to the world. Even most of this week, he’d let himself believe in the facade, be <i>angry</i> with the facade, as if he hadn’t spent eight years behind it with the <i>real</i> Damian. The one who hid, and misdirected, and was terrified of being vulnerable.</p>
<p>Damian had told Jon he didn’t care, and Jon had tried to believe him. And maybe the reason he’d never been able to get over Damian was because he’d always known that it was a lie.</p>
<p>Or maybe he’d just always be in love with this wounded, infuriating, brave man. A week ago the thought would have depressed him. Now getting upset about it seemed as pointless as raging at the tides.</p>
<p>“We’re gonna slow things down for a little bit here,” the band’s lead singer said, and the music shifted to something lilting and dreamy. “All the couples, come on and join Bart and Kara on the dance floor.”</p>
<p>The crowd thinned out a bit, some of the guests going back to their seats or mingling just off of the floor to talk. The singer leaned into the mic and crooned:</p>
<p>
  <i>“My love must be a kind of blind love...I can’t see anybody but you…”</i>
</p>
<p>As Jon watched, Kara twined her arms around Bart’s neck and he rested his forehead against hers, stiller and more content than Jon had ever seen him. Mom leaned her head on Dad’s shoulder; Wally murmured something to Linda and made her laugh. Jon watched Eliza and Jeremiah drift by; Barry and Iris; Jay and Joan. Grandma and Grandpa Kent, who’d been married over sixty years and were still palpably in love.</p>
<p>It was sappy. It was fragile. But God, Jon <i>wanted</i> it.</p>
<p>“I think it’s worth the risk,” he said, still looking at the dancers. He knew Damian would know what he meant. “Even though it ends. <i>However</i> it ends. I think it’s worth it.”</p>
<p>Damian didn’t agree. But he didn’t argue, either.</p>
<p>Jon stood up. “Dance with me.”</p>
<p>Damian’s eyebrows rose. “Did you somehow manage to get drunk again?”</p>
<p>Jon shook his head. “No. Dance with me.”</p>
<p>He held out a hand. Damian looked at it skeptically. “Have you ever known me to dance?”</p>
<p>“No. But it’s a wedding, and I like this song, and I want to dance with you.”</p>
<p>Damian gave a long-suffering sigh and let Jon pull him to his feet. “I forgot how stubborn you are.”</p>
<p>“No, you didn’t.”</p>
<p>“...No,” Damian admitted. “I didn’t.”</p>
<p>There was a bit of awkward shuffling on the floor until they found their rhythm. Jon wasn’t a very good dancer, though Damian was so graceful that he probably would have been amazing if he could have ever relaxed enough to let himself be. But all they really had to do was sway, and even Jon could manage that.</p>
<p>
  <i>“The moon may be high...but I can’t see a thing in the sky...I only have eyes for you…”</i>
</p>
<p>“See?” Jon asked. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”</p>
<p>“Don’t push your luck, Kent,” Damian said. But his hand tightened on Jon’s waist.</p>
<p>
  <i>“You are here...so am I...maybe millions of people go by...but they all disappear from view…”</i>
</p>
<p>The song couldn’t be more than three minutes long. Three minutes to sway here with Damian in his arms, close enough that the ends of his hair shivered every time Jon exhaled, feeling his pulse beat through their clasped hands. Three minutes with a love that was already over, and in two days Jon would be a thousand years away, and he already knew it would hurt.</p>
<p>But he hadn’t been lying before. It was worth the risk.</p>
<p>“Don’t go back to the Legion,” Damian said abruptly, staring fixedly at Jon’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Something thrummed in Jon’s chest. He forced it down. There was risk, and then there was foolhardiness. “Why?” he asked, keeping his tone light. “You got another roster you need me to fill out?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Then why?”</p>
<p>Damian’s eyes, still unfairly green, still heart-stopping, flickered up to his and back down again. “Never mind,” he said. “You should go back.”</p>
<p>“Damian.” Jon didn’t stop swaying, but he slowed. “Say what you were gonna say.”</p>
<p>Damian shook his head. “You shouldn’t stay,” he said. “They probably appreciate you on the Legion. You’re probably doing great things there. Then. Whatever.” He took a deep breath and looked back up at Jon, chin out like he was stepping into a fight he knew he was going to lose. “But I want you to stay because I love you. I loved you five years ago, and I loved you when I was thirteen, and I loved you all the time in between. I love you now. I never stopped.”</p>
<p>Jon stared at him. Damian didn’t look away. Didn’t hide. Didn’t misdirect.</p>
<p>“Come here,” Jon said finally, grabbing Damian’s wrist and pulling him off the dance floor and toward the door.</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>The thrumming in Jon’s chest had turned to thunder. He didn’t try to stop it. “Because I’m going to kiss you and everyone can see us in here and I’m not upstaging my cousin on her wedding day.”</p>
<p>They barely made it out the door before Damian was in his arms, practically climbing him to get to his mouth. Jon kissed him with all the pent-up longing of five years, with all the love he’d tried and failed to suffocate, kissed him until he was dizzy with it and close to tears.</p>
<p>“Me too,” he said when he could pull himself away from Damian’s mouth, that perfect, cherished mouth. “I never stopped either. I tried, but I couldn’t. I love you.”</p>
<p>Damian’s hair was mussed and he was breathing hard. Jon had to fight to keep his feet on the floor. “The last time you said that...it’s possible I overreacted.”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Jon said, but he couldn’t work up the energy to be mad about it, or sad, or feel any feeling other than that of coming home at long last. “Just a little.”</p>
<p>“All I could see was all the ways it could end,” Damian said. “Even Kryptonians can be killed. Or you could have grown up and...and outgrown me.”</p>
<p>“What?” Jon asked.</p>
<p>“It was plausible!” Damian argued. “We’d been friends since you were ten. You told me you realized you liked me when you were fourteen. And you were only eighteen when… What if I was just a habit? What if one day you looked around and realized I wasn’t what you wanted anymore?”</p>
<p>Jon kissed Damian’s temple. “Never,” he swore.</p>
<p>Damian ducked his head out of Jon’s easy reach, but he didn’t move away, and he didn’t let go of Jon’s lapels. “I thought, if we weren’t together, if we were just teammates, then maybe I couldn’t have all of you, but I couldn’t lose all of you either.”</p>
<p>He wouldn’t look up, wouldn’t meet Jon’s eyes. Jon stared at the top of his head, his mussed hair, his tense shoulders.</p>
<p>“Damian,” he said finally. “I love you. But sometimes you’re the dumbest person I know.”</p>
<p>Damian scowled up at him at that and Jon kissed him again, because he’d always loved kissing Damian when he was scowling. Or more precisely, he’d always loved the way Damian eventually melted into him, the way he did now.</p>
<p>“Maybe it wasn’t...the <i>worst</i> idea in the world,” he admitted, once they’d lost some unknown amount of time and probably the dessert course to kissing. “Spending some time apart. Maybe not the way you did it, but... I mean, if you’re worried I only want you because I don’t know anything else, I <i>did</i> date other people in the past five years, so I have some comparison now.”</p>
<p>“You dated other people?” Damian asked.</p>
<p>“Mmhm.”</p>
<p>“And they’re Legionnaires?”</p>
<p>Jon recognized the calculating look in his eyes. “No, you cannot come to the future with me and threaten them.”</p>
<p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>“Liar.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of the Legion.” Damian dropped his eyes again and fussed with Jon’s lapels, which were horribly creased from his fingers. “You didn’t answer my question. From before.”</p>
<p>Jon didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. “It was really more of a command.”</p>
<p>“Can I help it if I was raised to be obeyed?”</p>
<p>Jon laughed and leaned back against the wall behind them, pulling Damian with him, twining their fingers together. “I can’t just...not go back. I have obligations. I have a <i>life</i> there. I’d have to talk to them, figure out some kind of timeline, some way they can get in touch if they need me.”</p>
<p>“But…?” Damian prompted.</p>
<p>“But I miss my family,” Jon said. “I miss Old Earth. I miss <i>bagels</i>. I love the Legion, but it’s not home.” He brought Damian’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “<i>You’re</i> home.”</p>
<p>Damian looked away again, maybe to hide his watery smile or how fast he was blinking. But Jon had very good eyes. “I forgot how sappy you are.”</p>
<p>“No, you didn’t.”</p>
<p>“No.” Damian turned back to him, pushed up on his toes to kiss him again. “I didn’t.”</p>
<p>There was a burst of applause from the reception hall, and Jon suspected they were cutting the cake. “Do you need to go back inside?” Damian asked.</p>
<p>“There’s three people in that room with X-ray vision,” Jon said. “If they need me, they know where to find me. I’m good right here.”</p>
<p>There’d be questions, he knew, and endless explanations. He’d thrown his life into complete disarray over Damian once, and now he was planning to do it again. And maybe it would all end badly again, and maybe he’d get hurt even worse than he had five years ago, and maybe he’d wish he’d stayed in the future where everything was an adventure and nothing ever touched his heart.</p>
<p>Or maybe sixty years from now they’d be dancing at someone else’s wedding.</p>
<p>Like he’d told Damian, it was worth the risk. For now?</p>
<p>He was good right here.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I ship Match and Inertia so hard and I don't even know why. Murder clones in love!</p>
<p>The band is playing "I Only Have Eyes for You," but specifically a cover of the arrangement by The Flamingos, because that version came out in 1959 and that's the year Kara debuted. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://pluckyredhead.tumblr.com/">Come say hi on tumblr!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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